Tumgik
#corso pizza
megtudommagyarazni · 4 months
Text
Palermo corto
Kezdjük a legfontosabbal:
Tumblr media
Palermoba repülve érkezik az ember, a Punta Raisi (újabb nevén Falcone e Borsellino reptérre, ők államügyészek voltak, akiket kivégzett a mafia '92-ben).
A városba három módja van bejutni, vonat vagy busz, kb 1 óra, kb 6€ mindkettő, vagy iránytaxi, 8€. A buszterminál az épületből kilépve jobbra van, a vonat lenn, a föld alatt. Félóránként járnak. Mind a főpályaudvarhoz érkezik (Palermo centrale). A pályaudvarról kilépve egyenesen a via Roma nyílik, hosszú, zajos, forgalmas út (elején a Lidl, három nagy pálma előtte),
Tumblr media
attól pár száz méterre balra vele kb párhuzamosan a via Maqueda, a helyiek Corsonak mondják, elméletileg gyalogos. Az elméletileg azt jelenti, hogy itt az egyirányú utca ismérve az, hogy kevesebben jönnek szembe. A kettő közt terül el a történelmi központ (Centro Storico di Palermo), tekergős, szűk sikátorok szövevénye. A legismertebb látnivalók a Corsoról érhetők el, a négyszökőkutas térről (Piazza quattro canti) balra fel a Porta Nuova felé az arab-normann katedrális (Cattedrale),
Tumblr media
a Corson tovább a Teatro Massimo. Bármerre jár az ember, szinte minden utcában eléáll egy fantasztikus palazzo a kora középkorból vagy reneszánszból, egy Santa Maria della valami templom, leültem egy lépcsőre, és kiderült, hogy egy 12. században épült rózsaablakos erődtemplom lépcsőjén ülök. Van aztán a Kapucinusok katakombái, ahol rég meghalt szerzetesek vannak mumifikált állapotban, nekem kicsit extrém. Strandja nincs a városnak, az északra fekvő Mondellohoz ki lehet jutni városi busszal. Vasárnaponként (domenica) kirakodóvásár van a Corso feletti piac folytatásaként 100ezer négyzetkilométeren. Ahogy régebben, egy Schenker-gyűjtő rakománynál mondtuk, minden van ott, jézuskától géppuskáig.
Tumblr media
de nem vagyok útiköny-író, minden megvan az interneteken, jobban, bővebben
kaják a teljesség igénye nélkül:
Arancine - töltött rizsgolyó, sokféle, legkedveltebb a ragus, sajtos, spenótos, sonkás-mozzarellás, pisztáciás, és még ezerféle. A rizsgolyó közepébe gyúrják a tölteléket, aztán az egészet panírba forgatva olajban kisütik. Jó esetben öklömnyi méretű, 1-5€. Pane con milza - lépes szendvics, borjúbelsőség, jellemzően lép, esetleg tüdő, csíkokra vagdalva, faszénen sütve. Stigghiola - nyárson, parázson sült báránybél, ahány, annyiféle fűszerezésű, kis máj is lehet benne. Panelle e crocche - mentás krumplikrokett és csicseriborsó faszénen, zsemlefélébe (panini, ciabattini stb). Cannolo - ropogós tésztacsövek, amelyekbe ricotta alapú krémeket töltenek, csokis, pisztáciás, mogyorókrémes meg még százféle, nem feltétlenül tömény édes. Paninik, szendvicsek elképzelhetetlenül széles, helyben frissen készült választéka.
Tumblr media
Ezek a palermoi specialitások, de természetesen ezeken kívül minden olasz kaja van, pizza, pasta, lasagne, ravioli, tortellini stb. Enni sokfelé lehet, ajánlom a piacokat, az egyik a Corso elején a boltíves kapu után kezdődik, a másik a Teatro Massimo felett 200 méterre a Mercato del Capo. Minden IS van, csak rámutatsz egy körbetekert salsicciara, egy szelet vörös tonhalra, egy befűszerezett padlizsánra, egy tetszetős halra, egy megnyerő polipkára, és már dobják is rá a parázsra. Helyi ital valami ánizsos cucc, nem ugrik be a neve, kávéba is öntik, sajnos a szagától is elfutnék. Sör, bor, Aperol mindenhol van. Cafe, cafe macchiato 1-1,20€, cappuccino 1,80-2€.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Azt már ugye, hozzá sem kell tennem, hogy: "itt is csak házak vannak, meg emberek".
55 notes · View notes
tellmeallaboutit · 1 month
Text
knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)
Chapter 13, In Which Your Father Hangs Himself
AO3
MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING: this chapter deals with suicide and this is NOT the last time this work will feature suicide in graphic detail. Other warnings include: prostitution, sexual aggression / assault, xenophobia, toxic relationships.  
This is chapter from Raul's POV. This got too large for Tumblr so I will only leave the first scene here.
****
"Tell them to go to hell," your father said.
He wasn't even looking at you - he was looking at the fireplace, slumped in his chair, his hand rubbing Bella - his favourite cane corso, a beast of a dog, who lay at his feet with her heavy belly full of pups. She bared her teeth at you when you tried to approach, so you kept your distance. 
"Papa, I obviously cannot do that," you said.
He was in one of his moods, you could see that. 
One of those days he thought he had the holy right to make other people’s day hell. 
"Why not?"
You drew in a sharp breath before answering, "Because today is your eightieth birthday. Because everyone's here to celebrate. The house is more crowded than St Peter’s on Easter Sunday. Because the Prime Minister herself has just..."
He cut you off mid-sentence with a raised hand. "I'm not in the mood for a party. You deal with it, Raul".
Two months of preparation, in which you had to get personally involved because of the announcement he was hinting at. A public announcement he should damn well should make, because he clearly couldn't run Avernus anymore.
"Are you deliberately embarrassing me in front of all these people?" you said. 
"You're embarrassing yourself in front of these people, Raul”, he answered and made a grating initiation of somebody else’ voice, because you surely don’t sound like that. “Oh no, what if they don't like me, what if they think less of me, oh no, oh no. You always worried too much about what people thought of you. They should worry about what you think of them, if you ever wish to amount to anything”.
Merda! You should have known better than to return to Napoli for this farce.
"Ah, forget it. No matter what I do, you will find something to criticise."
Finally, your father looked at you. You took after him in appearance, or so they said; you barely remembered your mother anyway to cross-check. That’s what another thirty years will do to you; grey out your black hair, bloat your jawline, steal your muscles and mark your face with age spots.
There was not so much time left. For him, even less.
God willing.
"No matter what you do? You do nothing," he stated, a look of genuine surprise on his face. "What exactly do you do?"
Don’t answer. Don’t… you… bloody…
"I run an international law firm!”, you exploded. “I employ thirty thousand people worldwide... and I built it from scratch! I own estates EVERYWHERE! PRIVATE JETS! ALL WITHOUT YOUR HELP!" 
He scoffed and looked back at the flames. That was a special talent of his; reducing you to a raging mess while he remained an epitome of calmness.
"He has private jets, look at him. Without my help you'd be making pizzas for tourists, Raul."
This was pointless. It had always been pointless.
What had you ever hoped for? Did you truly think there would be something to make this man proud or happy?
"What did you expect from me?”, you asked. “What was I supposed to achieve to make you proud?!"
"Something that matters", your father shrugged. 
"And what's that supposed to mean? WHAT MATTERS TO YOU?"
"Legacy matters" he said, patting Bella's head. "Isn't that right, Bella? My sweet girl gives me at least five quality cubs every year. Did you know her last litter won Italy’s top prize? That's a good girl.” Then he turned his gaze back to you. "Not like those scrawny things you've been chasing since school. All this whoring, all this sin, and not even a single bastard to show for it".
Bella stuck her tongue out and panted, looking up at your father with sheer devotion. For a fleeting moment, you thought of putting a bullet in his head, and then in hers.
"You can't be serious. You know very well how hard I tried..."
"Obviously not hard enough," he said. "Here I am at eighty, and what legacy do I leave? For whom? Generations before you had given everything, sacrificed everything, everything, and for whom, for whose future? Who will inherit this country? The Muslims?"
He spat on the floor.
"I'll tell you who will inherit my fortune," he continued. "The Church. At least they have the decency to remember who we once were. What we fought for. What we dreamed of building. A nation of pride and ambition and honour. But you, Raul? You fled your home to where the money was and sold your soul to the golden calf”. 
What? No way. Not to the Church. The old man is getting dementia, he is incoherent. That's it, that's what's happening: your father is going senile.
"That's enough," you finally manage to say through clenched teeth. "I'm not going to stand here and listen to this madness any longer. I have too much dignity for that."
“You wouldn’t know dignity if it hit you in the face,” he said. "Maybe my mistake was loving you too much. Spoiling you rotten. Poor boy, he lost his mother so early."
You bristled at his words, but refused to let him have the satisfaction of a response. Instead, you turned on your heel to leave, only to collide with that damned bronze monstrosity.
That thing - the statue that haunted your childhood nightmares; always guarding the door, ensuring no one dared disturb the man who loathed disturbances - Mephistopheles as depicted by Jacques Louis Gautier.
"I swear to God," you seethed. "That damned statue... I've hated it my whole life. The minute you're in the ground, I'm smashing it into dust."
"It serves its purpose," he replied coolly. "Reminding me of my failures when your presence is not enough”.
You paused at the door, deciding that today was the last day you would ever try for him. 
Avernus Capital wasn't worth it. 
Nothing was worth it.
"You know what, Papa?" You asked, struggling to keep your voice as calm and composed as you father’s, "I hope it's your last birthday."
You were hoping for a reaction. But just like always, he failed to deliver what you hoped for. 
He offered none; even the shrug he gave was half-hearted. Bella fell asleep despite all the commotion; her head resting on your father’s shoe.
"Keep hoping," he said. "I plan on living until I'm a hundred and fifty, and then some."
27 notes · View notes
sp8derwrld · 1 month
Text
▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀
Tumblr media
𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙻𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴; 𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙻𝙸𝙵𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝙲𝙺𝙴𝚁
Ginger's childhood was memorable yet sensitive. He was single-handedly raised in a small Toronto apartment by his mother (Ruth) regardless of her best efforts the financial struggles and emotional tolls weighed heavily on their household. His father (Maxwell) was absent and consumed by an enfeebling drug addiction, left Ginger and his mother to face the challenges of poverty and instability alone. Ginger clearly remembers the countless nights his mother worked multiple jobs, sacrificing her own well-being to put food on the table and a roof over their heads. The pain of his father's abandonment hurt them both , but Ginger's mother imprinted in him a sense of resilience and determination, teaching him to find peace in music and creativity. During the hardships, their bond grew stronger, and Ginger's mother became his biggest supporter inspiring him to strive for a better future. As a child, he spent hours fascinated by the sounds of his mother's vinyl records, and soon, his passion with music production blossomed. With dreams of becoming a renowned music producer, Ginger dedicated himself to perfecting his craft, teaching himself to DJ and produce tracks in his makeshift home studio. Ginger’s favorite hip hop artists served as the perfect backdrop for his creative journey. As he grew older, Ginger's love for music only intensified, driving him to pursue a career in production, determined to make a name for himself in the industry.
𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙹𝚄𝙼𝙿𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃 : 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝙱𝙴𝙻𝙻𝚂
Ginger packed his stuff and said goodbye to the familiar streets of Toronto, embarking on a journey to Hainsville, Texas, a city with many vibrant music scenes and endless opportunities. With a suitcase full of clothing and a heart full of determination, he set out to pursue his passion for music production. Initially, the transition was daunting, but Ginger's talent and perseverance soon gained him recognition in local circles. He spent countless hours perfecting his craft, collaborating with emerging artists, and networking with industry professionals. His big break came when a prominent record label took notice of his unique sound and innovative production style. Before long, Ginger's name became known in Hainsville's music scene. He went on to produce chart-topping tracks, work with renowned artists, and even establish his own record label, providing a platform for aspiring music artists to shine. As his fame grew, so did his gratitude for the journey that brought him to this moment. Ginger's mother, who had sacrificed so much for him, beamed with pride, knowing her son had turned his struggles into triumphs, and his music into a testament to the power of resilience and determination.
▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀
𝙶𝙴𝚃 𝚃𝙾 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝙶𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁
Tumblr media Tumblr media
🖇️ FAVORITE FOODS :
Sushi
Pepperoni Pizza
Mozzarella Stinks
🖇️ FAVORITE COLORS:
Black
Purple
Red
🖇️ FAVORITE HOBBIES:
Producing Music
Free styling
Getting my hair done
🖇️ TOP THREE SONGS :
act ii: date @ 8 - 4batz
pressure - BossMan Dlow
only u - partynextdoor
🖇️ PETS:
all black cane corso + some horses 😂
▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀ ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀
14 notes · View notes
kyda · 3 months
Text
stamattina sono sul bus per un paio d'ore e per non pensare alla sete che per ovvi motivi non posso soddisfare e al sonno che mi impedisce di concentrarmi sul mio ebook scriverò dell'esame di ieri. durerà un po'.
ieri sono partita da casa malissimo, ho addirittura ripassato sull'autobus e per sdrammatizzare scherzavo con la collega, che diceva che stava ripassando pure, perché è una cosa che non facciamo mai, ripassare prima dell'esame. appena ho raggiunto l'ufficio dei russisti sono andata nel panico perché non mi ricordavo niente, cosa fosse la boemia in particolare, e ho deciso che avrei accettato non fino al 29 ma anche meno, fino al 27. non lo so perché, comunque, dal primo giorno il mio cervello aveva deciso che assolutamente non avrebbe trattenuto nulla sulla boemia, incredibile. ho iniziato le domande compulsive con le colleghe e il ripasso senza speranza fuori dall'aula, avevo la nausea e mi odiavo perché mi stavo presentando all'esame di una materia bellissima, con un prof che mi piace tantissimo e con cui faccio un percorso da molti anni e avevo studiato solo una settimana. ho ascoltato come un podcast l'audio della mia collega che mi ripeteva il capitolo sulla slavistica e la filologia slava e mi sono buttata subito dopo di lei, volontariamente seconda perché se avessi aspettato oltre penso che mi sarei sentita male o avrei fatto qualche sciocchezza, tipo andarmene. una volta dentro l'esame è iniziato con l'analisi dello slavo ecclesiastico e poi il prof mi ha chiesto come volevo continuare. ha fatto tanto, nella valutazione finale, penso, il fatto che questo argomento che avevo scelto era opzionale fra quelli dettati dal prof ma mi piaceva troppo e quindi se in una settimana ho studiato tipo cento ore cosa mai poteva essere un capitolo in più? ho scelto di parlare della donna e di quella che era, probabilmente, l'organizzazione matriarcale della società dei primi popoli slavi (vorrei approfondire di nuovo anche qui perché è veramente interessante ma risparmio al povero lettore che segue i miei aggiornamenti almeno questo) e poi il prof ha iniziato a farmi una serie di domande, una dopo l'altra, molto velocemente e quasi senza farmi finire il discorso che ogni volta iniziavo, ma sono riuscita a rispondere a tutto. non mi ha fatto domande difficili, credo. mi ha detto che ero un po' imprecisa su alcune cose (devo aver confuso un qualche verbo con un aoristo, non so) ma comunque, a quanto pare, mi sono meritata la lode.
la cosa che sto notando di questi esami della magistrale, diversamente dalla triennale, è che quasi tutti, finora, sono iniziati con un argomento a piacere, così diventa più personale, e la cosa mi piace molto. l'unica che non ci ha chiesto di scegliere un argomento è stata, mi sembra, la prof di letteratura inglese, ma il suo corso era sull'autobiografia e la scrittura delle donne e tutto era il mio argomento a scelta, quindi va bene. invece per esempio per l'esame di letteratura russa eravamo così liberi che quasi la cosa mi ha messo più ansia e confusione del solito. quando l'altro giorno all'esame di linguistica inglese ho iniziato parlando di language and gender e di quel paragrafetto in particolare che iniziava con do women talk more than men? era sì sempre un esame, ma mi sono sentita molto molto a mio agio a discutere di una cosa che avevo studiato perché mi aveva appassionata più del resto anche se ero davanti a un'insegnante che sapevo mi avrebbe valutata. in generale però sono stata così in ansia durante questa sessione e ho studiato così tanto in così poco tempo per recuperare i giorni in cui avevo fatto molto poco che pensavo che l'avrei chiusa male e che avrei portato a casa solo risultati deludenti. ho chiuso invece con tre materie date e due lodi a distanza di una settimana e anche se per tutto il tempo di scrittura di questo post il pensiero della sete non mi ha abbandonata un secondo (me lo merito comunque, ho mangiato pizza e patatine ieri a cena e stamattina a colazione) sono molto molto felice e soddisfatta di quello che sono riuscita a fare. sono felice perché mi sono sempre sentita mediocre nello studio e ci stavo sempre male quando studiavo per mesi una materia e comunque non ottenevo mai il massimo e non riuscivo a capire perché. solo ora sto capendo che forse avevo bisogno di appassionarmi giusto un pizzico di più e fare mio davvero ciò che studiavo. e lo so che il voto finale può dipendere da tante cose, ma la mia prima lode, prima di queste, l'avevo presa solo quando ho fatto la prova finale di letteratura russa su delitto e castigo, un altro argomento che avevo scelto io.
qualche giorno fa giuravo qui sopra che dopo questa sessione mi sarei impegnata a imparare a gestire meglio il tempo, o qualcosa del genere. ogni singolo giorno prima di un esame mi ritrovo sempre a dire e pensare che mi sarebbe bastato un singolo misero giorno in più per arrivare tranquilla, serena e sicura di me il giorno dell'appello. orazio non mi sopporta più perché è un pattern che si ripete e io ho dei seri problemi con la gestione del tempo e le deadline e lui (ammetto pubblicamente) ha ragione ma poi in un modo o nell'altro funziona sempre e riesco a farcela. il costo, certo, è il decadimento della mia salute psicofisica, quindi ribadisco nonostante i buoni risultati: mi impegnerò perché devo essere più gentile e rispettosa verso me stessa
7 notes · View notes
apeir0nn · 11 months
Text
Pizza patate e salsiccia + bruschette con ventricina e ho anche il becero coraggio di lamentarmi delle mie fastidiose attività intestinali in corso
25 notes · View notes
nusta · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Questo weekend ho fatto una delle cose che mi ero ripromessa di fare più spesso, anzi due: passare del tempo con le mie amiche di persona e dedicare di nuovo attenzione all'antropologia, che dopo la tesi ho messo un po' troppo in disparte.
Con la mia vecchia compagna di studi siamo andate a seguire degli incontri a Pistoia, organizzati proprio sul tema dell'antropologia dell'alimentazione, sulla cultura e sulle retoriche del cibo, sulle pratiche e i miti più o meno recenti che gravitano intorno alla cucina e alla produzione di ciò che mettiamo a tavola. Bellissimo *_*
Purtroppo siamo riuscite a stare solo una giornata su tre, e abbiamo perso uno degli interventi che avremmo voluto seguire di più, ma non si può avere tutto (e proprio la "temperanza" era uno dei concetti cardine di uno degli interventi che abbiamo ascoltato, quindi abbiamo cercato di contenere la delusione u_u)
Questi sono i miei appunti sparpagliati rimuginati tra ieri e oggi, in attesa di rimettere ordine nei miei pensieri:
* Sullo Sprecometro di Andrea Segrè gli astronauti della stazione spaziale sarebbero sempre ai primi posti di tutte le classifiche, ma quanto è difficile essere parsimoniosi senza un team alle spalle
* Chissà se Stefania De Pascale ha visto "For all Mankind" e quanta fantascienza c'è stata nell'infanzia di chi lavora in questo campo - chissà che ne penserebbero Fabio Dei (ricordando sua lezione dal Festival di antropologia di Bologna) e Dario Bressanini
* Se la tavola serve al dialogo e dialogare a tavola e sulla tavola serve a tutti noi, seguire il filo dei discorsi di Marino Niola e Enzo Bianchi è un viaggio nel linguaggio più suggestivo tra metafore e allegorie, una serie di immagini potentissime
* La concretezza dei numeri sulla produzione di carne di Stefano Liberti è agghiacciante anche dopo aver scritto una tesi su questi argomenti ed è tra i migliori esempi della complessità dei mondi culturali di cui parlava Adriana Destro nel mio primo libro di antropologia
* Chissà se la dimensione relazionale delle scelte alimentari collettive di cui ha parlato Adriano Favole ci porterà verso un equilibrio sostenibile prima o poi - sarebbe meglio prima che poi... - tra i paradossi dell'abbondanza e i limiti della memoria storica e la costruzione di nuove abitudini a tavola (quando ha parlato della neo-tipicità della carne in scatola in polinesia e al paragone con l'importazione della pizza in Italia non ho potuto fare a meno di pensare ad Alberto Grandi)
* Alla ricerca delle foto di Marco Aime, abbiamo visitato alcuni locali tra i vicoli e le piazzette di Pistoia, incrociando insegne di "corsi di recupero per vegani" e mostre fotografiche dedicate alla "fame chimica": sulla sola retorica sul cibo ci sarebbero ore di dialoghi da fare
* Grande emozione incontrare al volo Massimo Montanari e ringraziarlo per aver dato il via alla passione per questi argomenti 20 anni fa, ancora più bello farlo insieme alla mia amica considerato che la nostra amicizia è nata proprio tra i banchi di quel corso
* Quanti libri vorrei leggereeeee
* Per fortuna ci sono i video su youtube per recuperare gli incontri persi
Comunque non potevo non prendere appunti, ovviamente u_u
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Questa invece sono io che aspetto il treno per rientrare con 50 minuti di ritardo, ma niente può guastare questo weekend cominciato con gli gnocchi fatti in casa dalla mia amica u_u
E comunque ne ho approfittato per cominciare un libro che sembra proprio bellissimo *_*
Tumblr media Tumblr media
7 notes · View notes
kartywarty · 6 months
Text
OKAY GUYS. HEAR ME OUT ON THIS IVe DONE RESEARCH.
BREAK IN 2 CHARACTERS AS CATS/DOGS:
larry - black lykoi cat (he would be an unusually big lykoi.. hes 12 inches tall)
mary - brown maine coon
barry - white persian cat
pete - white ragamuffin (hes 9 inches tall)
bradley - brown bloodhound
twado - short-haired white shepard as a puppy
pizza boss - black cane corso
annoying kid - brown juvenile husky
brute - black pitbull
8 notes · View notes
tuhbanbuv · 9 months
Text
EWJ AU and Headcanons:
Guess people wanna hear my AU bullshit lol /j
I have a fuck ton I had to dump in a notepad and try to organize it.
Jim:
Jim can get drunk off of ice cream and fro-yo because the sugar fucks up with his system so much.
Jim curls up in the neck of her supersuit when she's too tired to reach her bed or overstimulated.
Jim is bigender him/her lesbian, Psycrow is bi, Professor is gay, Peter is gay as well.
Jim's full legal name is Jim/Kim Clayton, and she switches between he/him and she/her pronouns. Just don't call him an "it".
Jim is dyslexic, autistic and has a TBI.
Jim got her name from a grave she discovered in New Junk City. She didn't know anything about gender and stuff at the time, so she just assumed the masculine persona that people gave her due to her voice and suit. This would end up biting her in the ass years later.
Insectika courting rituals are much different than human courting rituals. WHN didn't know Jim was interested in her until he accidentally proposed to her in an Insectika tradition. After a bit of back and forth they began properly dating afterwards.
Princess WHN:
Snott is actually WHN's pet, he only sticks around Jim because of the snacks he forgets he puts into his suit's backpack and Snott is very much a glutton.
Princess WHN is also autistic, but she wouldn't know until Saturn was diagnosed as autistic.
WHN is part human part Insectikette, her true heritage and birth being the catalyst for her sister taking up the throne and mother's murder because the royal family was basically advocates for eugenics. It did not end well for all parties involved, big shocker there.
WHN LOVES human food, especially pizza. She'll be completely distracted if someone offers her food. Want to make her happy, give her food.
WHN thinks that a lot of Creepypastas are real, even the bad ones. She has spent at least a couple nights searching to bring down Jeff The Killer and Slenderman only to be dragged back home by Peter.
WHN often enters in strongman contests, and has several first place trophies from them.
Peter/Amos:
Peter's parents were used in animal experimentation an attempt to make the strongest fighting dog known to man. When the ring was broken up and arrested, the dogs were sent to a farm where Peter would be born as the run of the litter, only to be adopted by a young Addie.
Peter was adopted by Addie and her family when he was a normal puppy. As he was a runt rejected by his bio mom and adopted as a newborn, Peter was 100% convinced Addie was his real mom. Even if he knows he's adopted, he still calls her his mom.
Peter is a Jack Russel-Beagle mix, though he's technically now a hellhound.
Peter does most of the housework, at least the ones involving chemicals and flammable equipment because Jim is very accident-prone.
Peter is around 20-30 during the main canon. He aged up in dog years as a normal dog only for his biological age to slow down when he became Amos' vessel akin to that of a human. He'll probably live for 100-200 years though.
Peter is very small for his breed and was often mocked for it. Now, he uses it to his advantage because seeing WHN or Psycrow pause in shock as he gets drinks at a bar is hilarious to him.
Amos is Peter's demon and later lover. Originally Satan's right-hand man…until a certain cat came along and ruined it for him.
Peter has six puppies, named Paimo, Rono, Molo, Bapho, Corso, and of course, Solo. They all have some sort of demonic power thanks to Peter's demon and their other parent, Amos. If you understand the naming scheme for them you get a free cookie.
Amos can take up a form almost like Venom when he's going parrot-mode on Brock, just chilling in Peter's shadow. Except Peter's shadow now has eyes and a mouth and scares the shit out of everyone he comes across while doing errands.
Peter is Amos' longest-lasting vessel, as most of the others died from being murdered in witch hunts or took their own lives. He only made himself known to Peter after he temporarily died after a mission gone wrong because he was so impressed with Peter that he had to see him in the flesh.
Peter has severe anxiety, and honestly, who can blame him? Though he usually medicates it with those dog CBD treats and weed whenever he can. Addie Newman:
Addie is part Corvidian part human, with her biological mother unknown and potentially dead. Addie has a suspicion that Psycrow is her biological father, however.
Addie is currently dating Grayson, president of the Earthworm Jim Fanclub. As you can imagine, the meet the parents dinner went as well as you'd expect.
Addie has a large mixed family, biological and adopted, including her adoptive fathers, David and Mike, and her adoptive baby sister, Penelope.
Addie had anger issues in her childhood, once overthrew the leader of a gang in less than ten minutes, got expelled from several schools before the age of ten, amongst other things. Her parents went to adopt her a puppy in hopes it would help her, leading to her picking the runt of the litter, Peter. Peter would help Addie immensely...until he was separated from her when he fell through a portal to Heck.
Addie kept and wore Peter's collar on her person until she would eventually try to summon Evil to retrieve Peter herself, fully knowing and accepting that she would have to sacrifice her own life according to Evil. Jim would save her and Peter and became her friend.
Addie is still a delinquent but is more geared towards vigilante justice rather than purposeful crime. She wouldn't outright say it, but Peter and Jim saved her life.
Psycrow would discover a baby Addie abandoned while he was doing drug trades. He would take Addie in for the first three years of her life until ultimately deciding to give her up to an earth couple so she wouldn't be killed due to his criminal career. The two would later reunite and Psycrow would be accepted in the Newman family after he permanently put his criminal days behind him.
Saturn, Solo and Bessie:
Saturn is selectively mute, and Solo often speaks for her when they do missions
Saturn hardly speaks even as an adult, usually only hissing or screeches. She of course knows how and can speak quite well, but just prefers not to.
Saturn was born with just her arms as a lot of baby Insectoids/Insectikettes have a "larval stage", and much like Saturn did, grow their legs later on, usually as a toddler.
Saturn can curl up like a cat, and usually does this to fit in human chairs/seats/etc.
Saturn lets Solo and the other pups ride on her back. Seeing as she's literally a giant centipede and can fit all 6 of the pups on her back at once
Saturn considers Bessie her sister/half-sister due to their parents being clones. Bessie hates her guts, so the feeling is not mutual :(
WHN stressed and worried over not being a good mother to Saturn. She was ultimately worried over nothing, as Saturn is technically the only member of the royal family that had loving parents.
Solo was completely convinced that Saturn was a dog much like her and the other puppies until Peter had to try to explain otherwise. For five straight hours.
After a mission gone wrong, Evil Jim was sucked into a wormhole and presumed dead. Jim tried to take in Bully Bessie and it worked for a while until she ran away as a preteen and assumed Evil Jim's role. She works endlessly to find her dear papa and will not hesitate to find any way to save him, even if it means backstabbing her "sister". And she'd gladly do so.
Bessie is part jaguar, part piranha, part scorpion and radioactive cow, as Evil Jim wanted to make her with every advantage known to man.
Bessie ironically enjoys using butcher knives and cleavers as her weapons of choice, considering Evil Jim's guns as "too quick". Creepy.
Evil Jim didn't know what sex/gender Bessie was at birth and still doesn't, so he just let Bessie choose her clothes even as a baby.
Solo, despite being the smallest of her siblings, is pretty much the litter's leader. Mess with her family and you'll beg for death. She makes her fathers proud though Peter is a bit worried.
Solo can see and speak with the dead.
8 notes · View notes
gamegem92 · 1 year
Text
(The Wolf that Runs a Pizza Joint) Chapter Two
“Ehhh…”
Peppino finally woke up from his sleep that night, but… something was off. He had some strange sleeping positions, but this took the cake; he looked like a wild animal… and was that DOG HAIR ON HIS BED? Maybe it must have been on him from last night? Perhaps he should get breakfast at Noisette Cafe for the day and give himself a break?
Bruno seemed to be curled up in a similar manner to how he was. He seemed a little more… melty, however. That only happens when he is nervous… I should check on him. As Peppino approached his counterpart, it seemed to calm down. “Is something wrong, Fake?” “…Opul.”
The bite. He almost forgot! “Maybe it was a wolf…” “o-opul!” “Yes, a wolf bit me. Now, do you want to come with-a me to Noisette Cafe?” “Èffac… eneb anous.”
~~~
It was just when Peppino and Bruno had arrived that he noticed the slightly curious aura of certain patrons… “Did he really get bit?” “He did… by a big dog.” Peppino decided to pay no mind to them, and took a seat. “Welcome! Happy to have you- oh, it’s you! Been a while, hasn’t it?”
Peppino said nothing. As soon as he sat down, everyone returned to what they were doing. “Oh, and who’s this? Is he your brother?” “Olletarf nu EMOC,” added the artificial Italian. “Yes, this is, uh, Bruno. You may remember him from the fourth-a floor…” Bruno smiled at Noisette, who gave a friendly smile in return.
“I… see everyone is-a talking about something…” “Certainly are,” replied a familiar, gruff voice. It was Vigilante. Normally, he would patrol a certain ranch just outside the city, but when he wasn’t there, he normally checked for any signs of trouble or visited Noisette Cafe.
“Ev’ryone says there’s a stray dog runnin’ ‘round. Part cane corso and part wolf monster that nobody would want t’be ‘round.” Vigilante placed a copy of a newspaper by Peppino and Bruno. The picture was of a dog the size of a man, with a tattered outfit and one of its forelegs limping…
“Once I find the varmint, it’s goin’ straight to the pound.” At this point, Peppino didn’t know what to say. “Uh… cinnamon French toast, please.” “Right away!” Peppino looked at the picture again and again, and saw more and more familiar details about the creature… “Mio Dio, that’s me!” “You say somethin’?”
“Umm… no! Everything is okay! I-I’ll keep an eye out for this-a… dog!” Vigilante’s alert gaze sent shivers up Peppino’s spine. Sure, when they fought, he won, but only because Vigil gave him a revolver of his own to make sure it was a fair fight!
Peppino didn’t know what to think… what could he think? Werewolves weren’t real, were they? Even if they were, he wasn’t one! But what if he was…? “Order up! Cinnamon French toast!” His order! He almost forgot! “A-Ah, grazie!” Enough thinking. He needed the energy for his restaurant.
Bruno eyed the French toast with curiosity. “Oh, alright, you can have half of it.” “Eizarg.” They seemed to enjoy the cinnamon French toast, even without any syrup offered, as Peppino left money on the counter. “Th-Thanks for the breakfast. I should probably open up shop now.”
Noisette smiled a little, and Bruno placed a dime in the tip jar. “Aicnam!” “Couldn’t have said it better!” But before Peppino left the cafe, he looked at the photo of Noisette and her husband (or just boyfriend, we’re still not clear), The Noise. “Mi scusi, if I may, where is the Noise?”
“Hmm? Oh! Theodore is practicing control over his feram sui! He should be finished by noon.” “A-Alright, thank you. G-Goodbye!” “Eizarg. Icredevirra.” And with that, Peppino (and Bruno) had exited, the former with more questions than answers.
31 notes · View notes
Note
hi there ! very random question, but do you have any recommendations for one visiting milan ?
Hello there! Absolutely! Now I don't know how long you'll be there so I cannot quantify how much time you have (feel free to drop by my chat if you want some extra tips!). You'll find lists of the main things to visit anywhere on the internet so I def recommend starting from there, but here's my two cents too:
the roof of the Cathedral is worth the visit. Get the ticket in advance. There's an elevator option and a stair option, pick what you are more comfortable with. I took the stairs, it's not a big effort if you're abled bodied and healthy.
do not eat in the very center of town (like via Dante etc), look up on the internet the kind of place you want to go and go there. I can give you some recs if you want! No pizza, Milan is not the place for pizza.
if you ask me, Chinese food in Milan is traditional, there's places in the town center (those are okay) or just go to the Chinatown, which is worth a visit too.
for bubble tea, pick the ones where the menu is written in Chinese (like Toccartè in the town center)
pay attention to the buildings!! walk with your eyes a little raised above the level you'd normally keep them lol. go around the streets of the town center and check out the buildings, a lot have decorations like statues, balconies etc.
both Citylife and Porta Garibaldi neighborhoods are worth a visit. The latter has a garden/park that is lovely, esp if you're visiting in spring!
starting from Piazza Duomo, take via Torino and then Corso di Porta Ticinese - it will bring you to the Navigli (area with little restaurants and bars and places for the Youth(TM) to meet up) passing through the spot where the Roman ruins are, which is also a lively area with restaurants, bars etc.
speaking of which, go to the Navigli by evening/night!
also starting from Piazza Duomo but in a different direction, head towards the Castle. From there visit the neighborhood of Brera, the artsy area. The art gallery of Brera is definitely worth a visit. (The restaurants will be overpriced though.) Inside the Brera academy there's a small cute botanical garden too if you want to take a break and chill.
In Piazza Cordusio (between Piazza Duomo and the Castle) there's a Starbucks that's prettier than all other Starbucks and also you won't find the same stuff as normal Starbucks. Get inside (pick a moment where there's no queue) to see the coffee machinery. Don't buy anything though, maybe just a regular coffee.
depending on the day and time you visit, Galleria Vittorio Emanuele might be crowded. Go there anyway. It's so beautiful. You'll see tourist doing the touristy thing on the mosaic bull on the floor (standing with a foot on the balls of the bull and twirling on the spot I think three times?). I won't stop you if you do it, but locals will think 'lol tourists'.
Church of San Maurizio al Monastero Maggiore. Just go.
I can't give you tips about fashion shopping lmao I don't have that kind of money. Probably you neither if you're on tumblr instead of shopping in Milan right now
mmm nothing else comes to my mind right now but please feel free to ask me anything!!!
3 notes · View notes
libero-de-mente · 1 year
Text
Io soffro di depressione post parto. "Ma sei un uomo" mi direte, si è vero ma io sono depresso dal momento che sono stato partorito.
Mia madre ha sofferto molto e molto sangue perse, come dovevo sentirmi alla vista di tutto ciò? Allegro? Invece no, così mi assalirono dei sensi di colpa. E lei ancora oggi mi racconta di quanto sangue versò.
Dio Santo.
Così nel corso della vita ho imparato a gestire la depressione. Da piccolo in base a quanti cucchiai di Nutella riuscivo mangiare contemporaneamente. Salvo poi scoprire di essere allergico a tale prelibatezza. Pure sfigato.
Da adulto passai alle fette di pizza, niente allergie. Più sono depresso e più ne ingurgito. Però ingrassano. Sfigato due volte.
Diventerò come i rinoceronti. Pensate che siano sempre stati così? No. Erano Unicorni depressi, cominciarono a bere alcol e mangiare. Oggi sono come li conoscete. E io sono un Rino-ceronte.
Mi consigliarono la meditazione, il tizio che teneva il corso di meditazione mi mise davanti a un'immagine di un uomo seduto in meditazione, tra fasci di luci colorati e un simbolo luminescente sulla sua fronte. Una lemniscata, il simbolo dell'infinito.
Fissai l'immagine a lungo, molto intensamente a tal punto che il tizio mi dovette risvegliare da un torpore mistico. Con un paio di ceffoni. Mi chiese cosa avevo visto. Gli risposi che avevo capito, avevo compreso che in realtà il simbolo dell'infinito era un otto che si era sdraiato, perché depresso.
Non andai più a quel corso di meditazione. In realtà, per dirla tutta, fui cacciato dal tizio.
Ho letto da qualche parte che prima di considerarsi depressi bisogna valutare di non essere circondati da persone stronze. Ho controllato. Sono molto stronze, quindi mi deprimo di più.
Trasformerò la mia depressione in una serie Netflix, così me la vivrò in puntate, stagione dopo stagione.
8 notes · View notes
mynameis-gloria · 6 months
Text
Sabato e domenica da pazzi, la primavera è scoppiata e così anche i miei colleghi ed io a fine turno in questi due giorni. Tra le cose positive, gustarsi il pranzo all'aria aperta, leggere un libro in pausa, lavorare con M ed A, che mi fanno tanto ridere e per qualche oretta sembra addirittura un altro posto, parlare e socializzare con clienti che oramai son quasi amici, capire di esser migliorata, aver mangiato la pizza ed una millefoglie scomposta ieri sera, dopo essermi cambiata a lavoro ed aver corso alla cena con i ragazzi del corso appena terminato. Aver visto ben due albe e un tramonto. Aver toccato il letto e poco prima di collassare, aver fatto dolci pensieri.
6 notes · View notes
rosefrancaise8 · 1 year
Text
MILAN
Flying Premium Economy, we emerged slightly saner from our long trip around the globe than what we have before, but walking the streets of Milan for four hours while we waited for our hotel room to be ready really put us to the test. We thought we had just about pulled it off when David tripped over some raised pavement only metres from home and fell gracefully into the path of oncoming pedestrians. One kind man stopped to see how he was and exhorted him to be careful - advice that is always well meant but completely gratuitous after the event. Thankfully the wrist and knee that took the brunt of the fall held no grudges and all was well.
The next day we took the ever-faithful Hop On Hop Off tourist bus to explore further afield. With the exception of the historic Corso Vittorio Emanuel shopping precinct and the astonishing Duomo, nothing seemed to be quite where we had left it when we were there in 2019. Not a day goes by when I don’t look out our living room window on the intersection below dominated by the Spreadeagle Hotel and think of the view of the roundabout we had from our hotel in Milan. That roundabout was nowhere to be found.
Our Linea B bus did however get us to the Zona dei Navigli, a very different neighbourhood that centres on the two remaining canals that once encircled Milan - the Naviglio Pavese and the Naviglio Grande. It is the place for vintage shopping, pizzas, cafes, clubs, gelato and street art, with the odd gondola ride thrown in. We opted for pizzas (mine with mortadella and pistachio pesto was particularly good) and coffee gelati. The bus also took us past the Palazzo Lombardia and other sleek, futuristic looking buildings of the more recently designed Garibaldi - Repubblica- Veresine district. The stories we listened to this time through our little red earpieces were of architects making a difference in the world, which was in stark contrast to those about weddings between wealthy families and fortunes restored by the random addition of dried fruit into bread dough (Panettone) and saffron into Risotto (Risotto Milanese). As usual, we missed many of the landmarks pointed out by our audio guide but it was a comfortable way to get around this big city.
Later that night we went to a family-run Osteria a few blocks from the hotel called Mamma Rosa that lived up to its recommendation for good, honest Italian food. Their through-put was admirable also. Those waiters moved fast to accommodate never-ending groups of diners arriving through the night but never made you feel that you were on a timeline.
We packed our bags afterwards, ready for a quick exit in the morning as we had a 10.05am train to Trieste. Standing below the digital timetable at Milano Central, David thought it an itinerary to die for.
7 notes · View notes
deathshallbenomore · 2 years
Note
I'll be visiting Torino soon and I saw you post about it before so I wanted to ask, do you have some recommendations that wouldn't be found on a tourist guide? Grazie 💖
hiiiii (or, as the locals would say, cerea <3) :)
first of all, i'm so so happy you're visiting this beautiful city! i hope you'll love it at least half as much as i do (which is a lot. like. a lot)
under the cut!
as for my recommendations, i guess my biggest advice would be to just walk around and let the streets themselves guide you because a) the city centre (as in the very very centre and the neighbourhoods surrounding it) is not that big, so you could set some reference points, go for a long walk, and both see the main attractions and get to have a look at the city herself, b) because it's so worth it, torino really is so beautiful that even walking her streets is an experience by itself, c) torino is probably one of the easiest cities in the world to navigate because it was literally built like this:
Tumblr media
in any case, here's a list of my favourite places/spots that oh my god you have to see/things you really need to do*
monte dei cappuccini (+ the church + the friars' back terrace in case they decide to open it to the public); the hill area is also really nice so i warmly suggest you get to the monte on foot
this is a classic, but the gran madre church - piazza vittorio - via po - piazza castello route is a must (and you can do it right after the monte dei cappuccini, to reach the city centre)
castello and parco del valentino (and especially the giardino roccioso) is beautiful (also psss the borgo medievale is fake lol)
close to the valentino, you can take a walk around the san salvario neighbourhood (my beloved) which feels a little bit bohemien and quite vibrant and lively. lots of beautiful churches, lots of interesting architectural styles, Thee synagogue (which you cannot visit, but it's breathtaking even from the outside)
close to piazza castello, the galleria subalpina is BEAUTIFUL and once you've seen it, instead of going back to piazza castello you can go straight to piazza carlo alberto, then piazza carignano and then reach via roma. you know. 'cause they're all beautiful and classy areas of the city centre
another galleria that i really recommend is the galleria san federico, which can take you from via roma to the embarrassingly beautiful piazza san carlo
the quadrilatero romano area might be a bit touristy (bc it's close to piazza castello) but it's so peculiar and i just love taking walks there. feels a bit like paris, but maybe let's not tell the locals. lol
the porta palazzo market is definitely An Experience; bonus points on saturdays and on the 2nd sunday of each month you will find the (gran) balon flea markets. definitely give them a go!
ah of course the mole, but that's like. Top 1 things you should see in torino so;
but! quite close to the mole, in corso san maurizio, go take a look at the "fetta di polenta". it's a building that literally looks like a slice of something
museums, duh
the lungo po is a great location for a lazy walk at sunset :)
for god's sake don't go looking for a pizza and a cappuccino in via po at 4pm but try to find a place that looks genuinely piedmontese because the local cuisine is amazing. you can also find quite a number of "piole" (they're called like that) that are supposed to be quite cheap but very good and "local"
bonus (totally out of context): piazza carlina (I’m so local now that I forgot its real name lol) and giardini reali superiori (if you’re lucky you might find the newly restored extra area open to the public, fingers crossed!)
eat a lot of gianduia, drink good wine and definitely try san simone (thee local amaro) [of course if you're into any of that, ça va sans dire]
just walk. fill your eyes, mind and heart with beauty <3
here’s some pics :)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
19 notes · View notes
risplendiii · 2 years
Text
Oggi sono andata di nuovo in palestra per fare la mia seconda prova.
Ho fatto un corso sullo step, quindi qualcosa di aerobico a tempo di musica. MI SONO FATTA UN CULO PAZZESCO.
Io, poi, super furba, che vado in palestra al secondo giorno di ciclo. Vabbè, dettagli.
Qui per dirvi che sono in pace.
Non sto pensando a "quante calorie ho perso?" o "adesso mangio 50g di pollo invece di 100 sennò ingrasso". Penso solo che sono rilassata, che sto bene e che non vedo l'ora di riandarci martedì.
Non mi era mai capitato di sentirmi così dopo essere andata in palestra.
Voglio tonificare, non voglio dimagrire. Voglio asciugarmi un po' sulla pancia e basta. Magari farò attenzione un po' all'alimentazione limitando le schifezze, ma se mi va la pasta, la pizza, il sushi, la poke o qualsiasi altra cosa, prendo e me la mangio.
Che cosa bella ragazzi. Davvero.
Spero continui così.
11 notes · View notes
unapinetaamare718 · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Siamo nati a Genova, e quando abbiamo visto la luce era quella della Lanterna.
La vita di noi Genovesi è scandita da certezze minime, ma in compenso indiscutibili.
A Genova la gente si lamenta sempre.
A Genova la gente non è cordiale con il turista.
A Genova non ci sappiamo fare con l’ospitalità.
A Genova siamo musoni, schivi, diffidenti, intolleranti, non sorridiamo mai e bla bla bla.
Le altre città sono larghe.
Genova è lunga.
A Genova siamo incastrati gli uni sugli altri.
A Genova non abbiamo spazio.
A Genova siamo schiacciati tra le colline e il mare.
Sì. Perché a noi Genovesi piace vivere così. Tutti vicini. Tutti abbracciati.
Genova ha una sola linea metropolitana, che chiude alle nove di sera.
A Genova i mezzi pubblici sono sempre in ritardo e sono sempre strapieni.
A Genova le strade sono strette, ci sono salite e discese, curve e gallerie, e noi siamo sempre in troppi a guidare e ci innervosiamo facilmente.
A Genova quando devi imprecare preferisci farlo in dialetto, perché rende meglio l’idea.
A Genova se hai la fortuna di essere sulla Sopraelevata durante l’ora del tramonto puoi vedere il cielo rosa e il mare viola.
A Genova abbiamo le tegole fatte di ardesia nera.
Così quando piove i tetti diventano lucidi, riflettono il cielo e le case sembrano fatte di specchi.
A Genova il Centro Storico è un labirinto di botteghe e carruggi, se non la conosci ti perdi.
Questo serviva nell’antichità a difenderci dai predoni che approdavano dal mare e dai briganti che irrompevano dalle colline.
Genova è stata una Repubblica Marinara.
Genova è stata uno snodo fondamentale per il commercio, per via della sua posizione strategica, tra la terra e il mare.
Genova è patria di esploratori, inventori, inquisitori, ladri, tagliagole, pirati, nobildonne, streghe, sante e prostitute.
Genova ha i gatti sui tetti e i topi per le strade del porto.
Genova è la focaccia, il pesto, i pansoti al sugo di noci e la torta Pasqualina.
Genova sono gli ulivi sulla riviera.
Genova sono i Parchi di Nervi e i suoi scoiattoli.
Genova è la pizza d’asporto mangiata sugli scogli di Boccadasse.
Genova è il gelato in Corso Italia con gli amici il sabato sera.
Genova è l’aperitivo in Piazza delle Erbe.
Genova è lo shopping con gli amici in via Venti Settembre.
Genova sono i bonghi in Piazza De Ferrari.
Genova è le sue scritte anarchiche sui portoni, i palazzi e le saracinesche dei vicoli.
Genova è le sue biblioteche e i suoi musei.
A Genova, quando siamo innamorate, la sera andiamo sulle alture di Righi, in macchine scomode dai vetri appannati.
Genova è la grigliata sui prati in Primavera.
Genova è la festa in spiaggia nelle serate d’Estate.
Genova sono le piogge e i fiumi esondati ogni anno in Autunno.
Genova è la città che si ferma incapace di gestire la neve d’Inverno.
Genova è le sue alluvioni e i suoi morti ogni anno.
A Genova non si trova lavoro. Per questo prima o poi di qua ce ne dobbiamo andare.
A Genova quando ci vivi non la sopporti e te ne lamenti.
Quando però vai a vivere in un'altra città ti manca e parli a tutti di Lei.
Perché Genova ha mille disagi e difetti, e io sono pronto a riconoscerli tutti.
Ma è la mia città, Casa mia, e l’avrò dentro per sempre.
5 notes · View notes