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Note to carnival prohibition

And you're discouraged. Do you think that everything was ready. The van, the flags, the highways. The slip to meet friends, our modern immigrants. From Bologna, Rome. The adrenaline under the skin, the number of kilometers, the passenger load of smoke and screams, speeches stacked and scattered, Borghetti of plastic cups in plastic glide from one row to another, falling on the pants of what is ahead. And the swearing. Music, crumpled newspapers, sandwiches, the motorway services. I could not wait, I thought, and I was not really into the skin. Like the time before the special train in Ancona. Like that I was fifteen. But how can any comparison to Viareggio Naples 3-3, when we were in A ', I thought, until ten minutes ago. And I would say that life does not always have to search for answers. Antonio Yesterday I mentioned this to the game: "You will see that this ban as well. Tomorrow we meet at the Centre ", and I, to the tune of Battiato, answered with ostentatious complacency (but then who the fuck is safe from me to me when I say?) That the Centre will meet on Thursday, this time has already dealt with the thorny case of Esperia Viareggio-Foggia, on Saturday, and just did not find footholds to ban. Then came the Incoming messages. Prohibition of sale to residents of Puglia. He decided the Prefect of Lucca. And you're discouraged. You fall in his arms. Adrenaline you felt (for a transfer of shit, it must be said) is transformed into anger and despair. Would you like to send everyone to hell. But you say you have to rationalize. Writing, even for those who do not read it. Or who, while reading, do not understand. Will continue not to want to understand. That the battle against the card is a battle of citizenship. Of freedom. Not only the folk trying to continue, undeterred, in the practice of violating other stages. And the peace of good people, which by its nature does not know, want to know. There
perversion. Of aggressive. The phantom of
Casms - Observatory or heck you want to call it - a dummy instrument of the Ministry of Interior, as the first stage of a process of repression. Binding only in the pouring out prohibitions. Otherwise, or if even this lame dummy repents grounds of impeding the free trip out of the handpieces of Italian citizens who intend to march to follow their team, took over the local bureaucracies.
And the bureaucrat, the prefect, the superintendent, a crazed voice wonders if that Sunday (or on that Saturday) wants, genius work. What would you reply to a pizza called to work overtime? What a mason at the construction site? Only pizza and masons who go to overtime mandatory, and can not afford to waste blather, while these servants of the state can afford titled the luxury - the Maroni decree granting him, as if they did not have enough privileges - to place a hand on her stomach, instead of conscience, and say that no, this Saturday there is holding its own to deploy ten men in uniform to guard the invasion of one hundred Foggia. Even in the city about to host the Carnival. The luxury of rejecting the work they have chosen to do. That for which the taxes of this people dull provide the monthly salary. Easy
the trick. Perverse, deviant, and yet so banal.
We still rage. A wordless rage. Without banks, without safeguards. Surrounded by lobotomized individuals who, without understanding, they continue to chant: "It let the card. "
We wanted our isolation? Maybe, I do not discuss. And it is the tragedy of not being able to communicate outside of your circle, from the driver of that van smoky and noisy, the sense of mutilation that you try. Sure, some will say, these facts are not serious. Exactly, then you agree with me that this rage has no reason to exist?
passion. The pure, disinterested, which brings you to spend time, money, voice. A steal attention to the rest. Fouled by the power games that we have nothing to do. And our boss? Our press officer who raises up the signs of the substitutions and, on command, the Juve Stabia wand and its leadership? Perché tacciono? Perché, difensori virtuali del calcio etico e sottocosto, non alzano la voce per dire che è una ingiustizia, di più, che è una merdata vera e propria quella che stanno compiendo sugli ultras del Foggia? Quella che costringe la squadra a giocare senza sostegno, mentre – buon per loro, per carità – ad altri è ancora permesso godersi il brivido minore delle passeggiate e dei cori? Una vendetta, premeditata, preordinata, contro quei duecento rompicoglioni che non sono corsi ai botteghini per barattare la propria dignità col sogno di una nuova Zemanlandia. Ecco cos’è. Perché non è normale – non lo è affatto – che Lucca, piuttosto che Pisa, piuttosto che Foligno, are identified - with weeks in advance! - Travel as "high risk"? And where is the risk? In our presence? All go to hell!, This would say, rational or not. But in these situations the need to fight is even more pressing. As the adrenaline of the above. We are taking a bend to abuse, these infamous. I bet even today, that does not make it. But there is priced high.

Soul Silver Rom For Desmume Ma

Even Arafat

Sunday, February 6, Foggia-Barletta 0-2

I saw them. Why was there. A spare, but I was there. With your arms at your sides, look broken, distracted by the thirty membership card with the red and white scarves. That jump in the desert, sing, watch them more and more I seem to fish in an aquarium. To amplify the sense of the surreal, a dream. These are the four coats of a spring afternoon already. The Barletta has just conquered the "Zaccheria. For the first time in history. For what it's worth. For the first time in our. And it is different.
months. Whole spent months talking about the beauty of recovering and re-establish Zemanlandia Zeman, with close to boast of the wonders of the bench area and total power of youth, these young men willing and talented, are provided at no cost to society intuitive happy to capitalize on its champions at the court of Bohemia, the Casillo's vision of his brutal lower costs. A ill-concealed pride in saying that only 10 thousand Euros were spent to package the rose. To raise to the altars of the 3-3 "Flaminio" trimmed or five goals at launch. To justify any mistakes - technical and tactical - attributing it to inexperience of the perpetrators, the hard winter and still counting on the mythological miraculous hand of the Master. To revive the glory days of anti-chattering passion, against nature, a mad fun even when you lose.
And here are the results. A horrible
squad of savvy thirty-something, bad, provocative, putting well on the pitch by an equally out fashion and out of the spotlight, which no one thinks to ask Mourinho's experience in Madrid or in national Prandelli, which requires 2-0, optimizing two set-pieces and speculating on the counterattack.
had already happened, with Syracuse of regret and Silent Ugolotti.
It happened again. But this time the opponent has a name that evokes the most ancient, heard, derby blood of our people. The derby Ofanto. It is not the same thing. From that football is football.
incitement was not enough custom in the week. It is not enough to include these in their twenties, trying to show off to return to Naples or Milan, that this game was not worth as the others. Let alone have understood the bench in the old, whose philosophy of life and excludes the game beating the arterial vein, the adrenaline, the pathos which breaks the wind.
And the final whistle, with the thirty fish jumping and the squad in the industry guests, our turned out for what they are. I saw them. In midfield, look in the face with half the passion that we put in football, with one third of the despair of defeat to the playstation, unilaterally decide to come to greet the curve. As if nothing had happened. As if you can type in your chest and shake his hand to wash the shame. Children of the new generation, so a football match is nothing but a number of techniques, unaware of our representation of the battle. Even offensive, arrogant in not wanting to learn.
A roar. Inhumane, broken, guttural. This is what I heard. And the chorus was more deserving of an entire Sunday spent having to remember to pull off songs to raise the sky. They took a step back, those eleven lords. Dismay, disbelief. This was not the place that would protect them as chicks, anyway? And the mystery? He should not have shield them from criticism? On second thought: I am a living hymn to no desire to grow, to face the world as it should, to become men.
And that is all around us people were peaceful, calm, even the second advantage Barletta. "You'll see Now that we win 4-2. " Or those who, against all evidence, continued to defend them, the chicks spoiled. But with a team of twentysomethings will make the tournament in Viareggio, not the C1. Where there are dancing in the coronary arteries. And dignity. Barletta 2-0 against the "Zaccheria. It was not readily accepted even in the Italian Cup, two years ago. And now? Those big babies, which someone told the story of a beautiful square religious adoration, which accepts the circus without flinching, try to go under the East Stand. New bang. New defenestration. What will the coach? If you do not see that passion can also leave? One with the team in seventh place, which does not rely on the field in a factor city \u200b\u200baccustomed to perceive themselves as fort, what do you think in these situations? What goes on in the brain of one who, if he had called Novelli or sin, should have sought cover as Saviano? Although Arafat has been challenged by the Palestinians, in the end. And it was more humble. E Zeman, we can say that again (at least this one), not Arafat. And the owner? What will the boss? What fools we are destructive not want the good of this team? He, the diviner has found that we perpetuated the vein, which can speculate on the high price of tickets and no one raise his voice, he never thought of putting pockets to equip a team capable of winning the league will not say, but at least to give us the derby at home against third last in the standings. He, who Ariston - by bully - thundered the league in two years, before an audience anesthetized and completely stunned by dauna a variant of Stockholm syndrome. Now
to play hurt, when they deserve to be kicked up the backside.
This is also irony.
As for me, now that team can beat Nocerina and flood networks Atletico Rome. He lost the derby without a fight. My league is spotted. My season is over.

Locker Combination Big Nate Island

JUST PASS! Free the ultras, all free!

The failure of the decree Maroni is in everyone's eyes. Every Sunday

stages more empty, curves less colorful, confusion in the fields "mixed" and repression. What began as a catalog of mass to counter the 'violence', is revealing for what it is: a deal for the banks and the death of his passion for football as we know it.

We're getting used to living with bans. Prohibition of unauthorized wearing flags, banners, torches and smoke bombs. Ban on travel. Now follow their team has become more difficult for the lottery.

In addition, the proposal to extend the provision of formal notice (DASP) to the demonstrators also shows that we were right when we said "Today's ultras tomorrow tutta la città”. Stanno restringendo paurosamente i nostri diritti di cittadinanza. Ci vogliono muti e obbedienti. Allo stadio come nelle strade. Ci vogliono a casa, davanti alla tv, e per questo limitano i nostri movimenti, la nostra voglia di aggregazione, la socialità, le nostre passioni.

Ma non è ancora troppo tardi. Abbiamo ancora tanto da dire. E dobbiamo farlo in fretta.

La libertà non riguarda solo gli ultras. Riguarda tutti.

Facciamoci sentire.

No alla Tessera del tifoso!

Throat Had To Be Drained

Thought of the evening at members, freedom of choice and set things

Vittime e fautori di un frainteso senso d’esasperata libertà, i tesserati si trincerano dietro una presunta Scelta (con la maiuscola) to invoke an impalpable respect for the opinions of all.
The card becomes in their eyes - or with their eyes trying to make it become - a bastion of relativism. There is what is right and what is wrong, there is a single, with its reasoned decisions, and there is a context, personal and social, that door, hurries, ratifies decisions.
Every life has taken its course. Each course must be respected.
this is strange and original way of thinking, of approaching the topic.
if only because the choice is between the myths, one of the fakes.
The merchant is not free to live it out his shop by the market, not the winemaker is free to be produced its wine, the poor smoker is not free to buy two packages of Lucky Strike day. Discuss freedom, choice and opportunity, is one way to do academy. To waste time. Needless to bang his head.
The only freedom shines in denial. In conscious rejection that borders on the brink. Acceptance of the consequences of a "no". Other
that. A

Mirafiori blackmail, indispensable feature of our society and discriminating, it was much more full-bodied. At stake was the survival. Of their work, their families, their beliefs. The "yes" to the noose wielded by Marchionne - is the common opinion - it was not the depositary of a bit of freedom. In interviews, workers bent repeated: "There is no choice." Like a chant, who had depersonalized. Consent before a blackmail is not freedom, but its opposite. And yet, 48% of blue collar workers has declined. He rejected the proposal of the offensive manager of Fiat, and has recovered his dignity, denying - in fact - to barter with a job.
"Think of the serious facts," he called out for months, those who do not understand our rant against the decree Maroni and his charges.
And they are right. On a scale of values, in a similar precarious scenario of flame, our verbal intemperance on the issue must seem quite modest. Even irritating.
But man, you know, is never as serious as when he plays.

And if you want to understand a man, you have to see how it plays. How much passion invested in a simple bowling tournament, as heedless of the risk to endanger his ankle in a challenge between unmarried and married, as much determination as he ran from fifty five, the city marathon. The game is the indicator of human character.
advisers not ever to my daughter in a field that is not willing to lose anything. For whoever is not able to get involved seriously in life "serious" will do the same. Raising a potenza la propria viltà, il proprio narcisismo vuoto, il proprio terzismo indifferente.
In altri termini: se sei corso a farti la Tessera di Maroni, sei un essere talmente poco etico che a Mirafiori non solo avresti votato come Marchionne, ma gli avresti fatto la campagna elettorale; e nella mia vita non voglio gente come te accanto.

Find A Combination To A Casehard Lock

Runaway reactions ...

from facebook:

Fabio March

Ruby maiden: "I was raped by two of my uncles at the age of nine years." Sometimes families are able to immediately recognize the potential of children.

Romina P. daiiiiii noooooooo ........ cmq seconds was just not true ..... I think you will ever know what happened .... could give to every woman as € 7000.00 if you do not want anything in return ....?!

Fabio Marzo   La madre di Ruby smentisce la figlia: "ho solo un fratello, lei ha avuto un'infanzia normalissima, insomma, lo volete capire che è proprio zoccola o no?"

Ines F.   ahahahahahahahah... io l'ho capito... ahahahhaahah...

Elena B.  

non si scherza sulla violenza sessuale, REALE, che tanti bambini subiscono dai familiari. A me quella Ruby dalla voce pare che years he has 30 and not 18 as claimed by all that sincerely I got idea that it can also be u ... Show All

Fabio March I knew this was too politically incorrect ... but it is not REAL ... there is'!

Elena B. but still: if the television transmits disgusting things, we must make disgusting jokes? Until jokes about you and ruby \u200b\u200bbunga bunga is fine by me but by putting in half the frankly sexual violence against children, offends me as a woman disgusts and perhaps you as a man no, but patience.

Elena B. you people obviously have their heads somewhere else

Fabio March real violence disgusts me ... squalid not a lie ... should be disgusted with the fact that she lied about something so terrible, not that I take it your ass for doing that ...

Elena B. I think the joke like the one you did, so disgusting As the lie of the ruby. If a ball like this is disgusting at the same level if not worse than those you put on something so serious to pretend that we embroider on it with a sexist joke and humiliating for the whole human race. And note that I am usually a super joker but when it comes to violence against children is no laughing even though it was a colossal dance.

Fabio March but in bar violence is not justified ... is just bitter sarcasm ... nobody said it was right to rape children ... I do not want it to be misunderstood ... E 'sarcasm on a lie ... I think you're magnifying the thing ... unnecessarily ...

Fabio March giving me the miserable sexist heterosexual ... ever definition was not adequate to describe ...

Elena B. "I was raped "..." sometimes families are able to recognize immediately the potential of children" ... you should know it by myself. But I repeat: I'm not too big but that do you do that too small. Anyway I will stop here, because to explain the paucity of a male is a joke like how to explain to a blind man from birth (come me, e questa non è una bugia) il concetto di colore. Quindi...tempo perso.

Fabio Marzo  

Parli come se solo le "bambine" fossero vittime di abusi.
Parli come se io avessi detto "hanno fatto bene" ma la battuta sottolineava soltanto che la "violenza" è inesistente nella faccenda ma il "potenziale" di Ruby non resta certamente ine ... Mostra tutto

Fabio Marzo   scommetto che poi dici cose anche del tipo "voi maschi non avete idea di cosa significhi mettere al mondo un figlio" o "l'amore di una madre è certamente più forte di quello di un padre perchè il legame è diverso" e altri stereotipi da pseudopsicologa da talkshow.

Elena B.  

Congratulazioni... non solo hai fatto una battuta di pessimo gusto e hai offeso tutto il genere umano e non solo le donne. Ma adesso arrivi anche a tentare di offendere la mia persona dandomi della cocciuta e quant'altro...
Non è un insulto   ... Mostra tutto

Fabio Marzo  

Mi pare che l'unica che ha dato una... permettimi di dire... del tutto personale ed errata interpretazione della battuta sia stata tu...
con questo per carità non voglio assolutamente dire che tu non l'abbia capita perchè sei una donna eh... ... Mostra tutto

Elena B.

Non mi conosci proprio...si vede!
Io non sono né patetica né moralista né scassacazzo.
Dire che una battuta is in very bad taste does not mean it does not happen, or not be able to understand it, or be moral ... simply means that I was not totally made me laugh and even offended me as a person + that as a woman, you say that I misunderstood but I played very well, "the family was able to understand that it was ho "... cmq I pass from words to action now, there are no problems ...
The only thing that you've done from now on is to remove 'status since I will be out only the messages your

Fabio March  

Non avevo dubbi... ciao ciao...

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Heart Attack Get Well

... everything changes but you!

you ever expect a phone call that you know will not come? Yes, I understood, but expect it anyway. Are they waiting for the machine rings. Usually not just part of the ring puffs. 'This time, instead savor ... the first ring you're stuck and you do not have the courage to watch the display. On the second you get up from the couch with ease and feign disinterest. At the third watch the phone and finally you realize that it is not expecting the call. But it's too late. Answer and short cuts trying not to leak the disappointment. So much is just the latest disappointment in a long line. But you never know if it was to disappoint those who would call you ... or yourself. Patience. You do not die so little ... you do not live even for a phone call. Everything changes ... except you.

I Need Printable Cards For My Mom

Envy and antibiotics

Domenica 9 gennaio, Lucchese-Foggia 4-2

Mal di schiena dorsale. L’Oki, mi dicono, è blando. Troppo blando. Così un paio di Peroni non aggiungono niente. E niente tolgono. All’inefficacia. “Prova col Brufen, che è più adatto”. Butto giù la compressa e lascio perdere il vino di produzione. Alle 14,30 the total of the "Porta Elisa" di Lucca appears on the screens of satellite channel free. The curve on the right is one of the members. The industry guests. I see them. And dream. A journey in my tormented psyche. I watch them and I think that at any moment someone enters the door with a graceful bottle of Lagavulin and Laphroaig or joyful strillonerà: "Whiskey for all Scottish." And I, I took the Brufen, I'll have to skirt the issue, stand aside while the others eat again. For them or what the wine from € 2 per liter are equal. An existential nightmare. Because that's how I feel when I look at those thirty flags and their meager desert in that area. A forced the Cayenne. Then there's sausages, grilled eggplant, that even today we turn to the barbecue. As if nothing had happened by now. And the gaze glides on the plates occasionally to get up on the screen. The Lucchese attacks in that area. And I can only wonder why they are so frayed. In groups of two, three at most, strictly separated from each other, as if every micro-community had the halo around the spot of AIDS. Staggered, so that we could distinguish the individual components of the cars parked outside. An absurd question comes over me, and it seems more important than Foggia takes one to zero, draw, take the second and missed the penalty. But why non fanno amicizia? Sono seimila e passa i tesserati al plebiscito pro-Zeman di questa città. Dopo Pisa, Nocera e Castellammare, oramai si è capito che solo quei 25-30 hanno tenuto fede al mottetto estivo del Mi tessero perché voglio seguire il Foggia anche in trasferta . Ma non sarebbe il caso, per loro, di rompere il ghiaccio, la reciproca timidezza, e fare il primo passo? Il calcio è aggregazione. E questi mi sembrano degli scolaretti alle prese con le prime feste in maschera, quando tutti i maschietti di schierano di schiena ad una parete e tutte le femminucce nel cantone opposto del soggiorno. Che le mamme di costoro raccomandino ai figli di non dare confidenza agli sconosciuti? Che siano tutti lungodegenti fuggiti dal reparto di Infectious diseases of the Reunited? That would otherwise not all that it does not take to socialize. Then he realized: they watch the game. For them, the neighbor is optional. A tinsel fungible, that is or is not does not make that everyone is different. I wonder, but I would never have done even 15 km apart from the company, its travel and the thought of the mess will be in the stands? Absolutely not, I answer in a moment. And I come back to crush the lemon over the meat, while the third collects Foggia, is the second, take the fourth and lost.

We are different, but to know that there was no need to arrive at the second half of the season. It is not absurd hierarchy, who is or who meno tifoso, di chi soffre più e di chi soffre meno. E neppure mi va di tirare fuori dal cassetto quell’abusato termine che è Ultras, per dire tutto e non dire niente. Qui si tratta di tristezza. Perché a me quelli lì sopra mi fanno tristezza. E rabbia. E invidia, come i bevitori di whiskey dei miei incubi antibiotici ed antinfiammatori. Sarà che ci siamo assuefatti: tra un paio di giorni si degneranno di comunicarci che anche a Foligno non potremo andarci, e ci guarderemo in faccia con lo stesso stupore senza fine, ma senza ancora deciderci a mandare tutti a quel paese. Quelli che hanno svuotato gli stadi e quelli che limitano ai residenti l’acquisto dei tagliandi; quelli che giocano alle 12:30 e quelli che si sono resi irrimediabilmente accomplices of the great deception of security in exchange for freedom. Yet we talked about it last night, once again through the photos from the past. We talked about it with friends. We were asked for the card, of course, but also the mechanism of Daspi. And read on their faces the same awe amplified, gave me a strange thrill: it's weird to talk about themselves as a WWF panda or a guinea pig. So accustomed to this that they have forgotten even the monstrosity of the original decree Maroni. But today I feel positive. Change, we will probably change is already happening, as when beneath the surface of the planet is designing its metamorphosis. Why am I parading before the winter and spring images, in the van piazze di paese, i bar, i parcheggi per gli ospiti, gli autogrill. E mi rifiuto, con l’ostinazione di chi combatte l’evidenza e la ragione, di credere che la mia passione sia definitivamente delegata a quei trenta tristi elementi. E alle loro sciapite bandiere. Che mi fanno rabbia ed invidia. Anche se l’invidia non è di quelle che potranno mai spingermi a fare cambio.