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Chicken curry cream pie

700 gr. chicken breast 1 onion

100 ml. heavy cream
100 ml. milk + one for the rest of chicken broth 1 cup

1 or 2 tablespoons of curry spices depending on the intensity of oil


flour salt and pepper

few hours before preparation of the recipe, cut the chicken small cubes, cover with milk, salt and pepper and leave it in the fridge until use, in this way will become soft.

Preparation:
Make the sauce with olive oil and chopped onion. Drain well the diced chicken and coat with flour. Add to the mixture by well-brown on all sides, then add the broth, salt and cook for about 20 minutes on medium heat (adding water if necessary). Then mix 100 ml. of milk, 100 ml. heavy cream and curry powder and pour this sauce over chicken. Allow to restrict the fire until it has formed a thick cream but not thickened. Serve with boiled Thai rice. Bon appetit!

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The Last of the Mohicans ... no, the last of the journalists. It

I saw this video in Blog Christian and I decided to shamelessly copiargli the idea of \u200b\u200bposting it. It will be because I like this journalist, and a lot too. It will be because, beyond the fact that you can appreciate whether or not the initiatives Grillo, beyond the fact that Grillo himself will like it or not, we need people who tell it like it is. That there is no need to wake up a bit 'all.

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recycle vibrators. Today I feel so

(Note to readers: The following post has nothing to do with the previous post sdolcineria. Double Spippy personalities emerge clearly here. Your girl is going to entertain you with one of those gems of which I am sure you missed much. Ladies and Signor, venghino venghino: you are about to be driven on the right - er - away for free, with policy and common sense, your worn-out vibrator!)

European laws on waste disposal indicate that you can 'get rid of any electronic device as if it were a banana peel and need to find a system for proper disposal. The LoveHoney, the UK company the leader in online distribution of sex toys, Rabbit Amnesty launches campaign, named vibrator of his "historical" in the shape of a rabbit. The vibrators used will be brought to an appropriate disposal center where they will be dismantled and some of their components will be reused to build new ones. In return, you can buy from the company website to another "toy", this time at half price. Estimates of the industry argue that 43% of Americans used a vibrator at least once in their lifetime and therefore the environmental risk presented by toys sex should not be underestimated. LoveHoney also has pledged to donate one pound for each recycling to the World Land Trust, which for nearly two decades fighting for the reforestation of the Amazon. ( http://www.lovehoney.co.uk/ )

(Because something tells me that, after reading this post, there will be a surge in number of visits to this website, and why something tells me also that, in comparison to this number, the cast of the vibrators will be wisely and judiciously, to say the least, ridiculous? And oh well, at least I tried ... can not be said that Aunt Spippy interesting sites you may not know .....)

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... "They were days of typewriter sheets decorated with the sun or a lawn, or flower with five petals which Aidi signed his messages. All things drawn with colored pencils. She came thick sheets of computer writing, words a little gay and a little sad in New York 10 points and Alex imagined sitting at a table in a room that had never seen, as he read: "If you want a friend , tame. " "What should I do?" Asked the little prince. "We must be very patient," replied the fox. "At first you sit a little away from me, so, in the grass. I'll watch with one eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But day after day, you can come to sit a little closer ...". The next day the little prince came back. "It would be better to return to the same time," said the fox. "If, for example, arrive at four in the afternoon, I shall begin to be happy since the three. More and more time will be happy. When the four are now, I'll shake and I worry: will find out the price of happiness." ...

(Once an appointment had been presenting before you, and as soon as he saw her coming toward him, helmet in hand and colored scarf, as soon as he had recognized from afar, among the people, the meeting was over, singing without opening his mouth had embraced laughing, kissed her cheeks cold.) "

..." That devil of a man who was more excited to be lying in the grass next to Adelaide giving her hand, than it had ever been in sporadic moments Erotic particularly of his life. It was all so new, clean, fresh, thought our hell. "

..." In those spring evenings, sitting at the kitchen table with books scattered 'around, soft music and the lighted candle, Alex began to understand what it was happiness, and perhaps had seen running quickly and quietly as a shadow, just outside the window, even darting that other demi-god. It seemed to be he, in fact. And indeed, looking back to months later, with Aidi now overseas, he would finally convinced: Uh, it was him. It was just him ...

(In light of that candle portentous, had heard for the first time the immense strength we have inside.)

Watching silent lips, hair, hands in the light of that candle Aidi , was majestic emotion as lying on the tracks and stop a locomotive with leg strength or swimming in apnea, for hours, in a sea - forgive him - fresh tea to fishing. "

From" Jack Frusciante E 'leaving the Group. "

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For a smile millionaire.

Girls, we must hurry. Now that the people of Italians have elected their representatives worth to us is only one weapon: the smile . Here are some simple and practical tips to try to get a smile of conquest

• Buy the best toothpaste in the market. Make a good supply, for every wash you use a fair amount. No matter if you spend a digit, believe me, it is worth it.


• buy two types of brushes: the classic, with bristles hard, nay, very hard and electricity. For each wash and use both.


• Brushing your teeth regularly. And I mean not only regularly after every meal (which I hope facades already), but every 2 hours. In this way, not only to ensure a beautiful glow to your teeth, but you will also quiet in terms of breath.


• Use dental floss at least 3 times a day or more after the main meals (and if you make some snack, while you're at, use it again!). And do not try to cheat: the thread must be passed in the midst of all the teeth! What if then, due to laziness, not clean a crack, it turns out that it is one where you went to snap the bloody residue of salad!


• forbidden chewing gum (even sugar-free).


• forbidden to eat candy. They are granted exclusively to those sore throats, long after that proceed with a deep and thorough cleaning: toothpaste, toothbrush classic, electric toothbrush, floss.


• forbidden to smoke, then take the teeth that yellow-ocher much unwatchable.


• The total duration of brushing is not be less than 30 minutes if you add more time advancing the toothpaste and start again.

And finally, I recommend: If by chance you had to feel abandoned in yourself and your washing will not be in vain to take care of your smile. It is your future. And this video will always be here, ready to remind you:

Love,

a precarious future eternal like you.

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not think about.

Il Foglio

The best Italian film of this year (probably in the next, and next again ..).

The Republic

E 'Think not born with the Italian approach to Jewish New York comedy? Gianni Zanasi embodies the successful grafting of Woody Allen on Monicelli (who blessed the film)? (...) (...) Delicious but very dense comedy Joking rain and a tight pace.

Il Manifesto

(...) With irreverent humor Zanasi confirms his talent for making people laugh without knowing how to give the labels. (...) There is a surreal tone of the province and its rituals, the instability of contemporary apparently not even scratch them, and that tone transverse distance participant who returns them upside .(...) The Film Zanasi moves to subtle movements, has the vitality and the feeling of imperfection. With the rare gift of capturing the moment experiences (images) are recognizable. But each time to make them unexpected.

Il Giornale

(...) is un'azzeccata family comedy atmosphere of Romagna.

Il Corriere Della Sera

(...) what could be a not so original portrait of the evils of the province becomes a fun and varied picture of a country where the clichés of "all fiction 'Italian' were around, avoided or reversed Zanasi (...) while using stereotypes of adults who do not want to grow and confusing dreams with reality (or jokes bar for serious conversations) with a lightness and irony conquer. (...) Valerio Mastandrea remains the best actors of his generation (...)

Unit

(...) Film is nothing short of amazing. A well-written comedy and well balanced, with a cast of actors in a state of grace and an original story, overflowing with ideas and inventions, able to tell destinies, problems, love affairs of the province of an Italy that is just waiting to be displayed. (...) Independent film that makes us rediscover a Zanasi reborn, fresh, pungent, close to reality, capable of running his actors on the carousel of dialogues and situations often moving, some bizarre, always true. (...)

Spippy's News

in full Share of my fellow journalists, ed.

adds, fantastic soundtrack. If someone, for case, should possess it, is kindly requested to inform myself.

Mucias Grazias tesoritos!

Kates Playground Set Almost There

Contenta.

What then, finally, I say I say, but give this examination of Italian literature was almost a pleasure. Because I spent many days in the company of interesting people, people who in one way or another will still be remembered for his ideas for his writing, for his way of thinking. It is not a trifle, to be remembered for his way of thinking. What then did you Dante reeds and a series of unimaginable mental journeys, that's another history. And I am firmly convinced. But to recognize that I have had really dug the original, as recognized in Francis have been able to tell just how a state plagued with this love he chased on all sides, and he could not go even in the most secluded that zac ! came the breeze of the aura (the aura = Laura, brilliant ..) to remind her, and he was sick and did not know how.

Then there's that other one, that Nicholas who blame all the way to say "the end justifies the means." Well, not true at all .. Nicholas had it a moral, and he was firmly convinced it was right to stand by them. With the sole exception that if a prince really wanted to secure control of his state, had to learn to be a coup and even a lion , because with the nice words and nice Musino facade would not have come so far . Acceptable or not this is political thought, political thought is still with the most sensitive. In short, there were people in our Italy centuries ago, that really c'aveva the so-called balls. Nay, the balls, I put here the most well capitalized.

And I'm also thinking Thomas, who became 27 years in prison just because he was preaching justice and equality among men. Just because there was conformity to the religious and political despotism, and the Counter with its Inquisition and the Index of prohibited books were things to spit on. Okay that'll tell you, that is a witch and then, with my hair in my blacks and, I would be the first to be burned at the stake. But hell, 27 years in jail without having killed anyone, without molesting a child, without being a mafia boss, without having sent down the drain the life savings of people who have invested in Parmalat. It is almost funny when you consider that our criminals are not in a single day.

And then I Ettore in mind, he preferred to be called Italy, and gave us some of the finest figures in the history of inept. Confessions of Zeno I've already read three times and I would be ready to start again too soon. Why in the bewilderment of the characters in Italy there is the loss of our society today ..

and the One Hundred Thousand and None of Louis and there are one hundred thousand people living in and neither one of us.

There is awareness that you have in front of a reality that does not grab anything, that bad to live of Eugenio that, man, in those sharp shards of bottle on a wall has contained the whole contains. And maybe even more.

I would walk to the bitter end, not to forget those who have experienced war on the skin, who spoke of partisans, as Caesar and Beppe .. Who said anything about Auschwitz, as Prime .

I discovered (in my infinite ignorance) that Caesar took his life Aug. 26, 1950, the same day that came out "The Moon and the Bonfire. "It was the height of his literary fame and worldly. But he was alone in the hotel Roma in Turin. All of them said that the main cause was his love for a beautiful and ambitious actress, but a little ' wrong. They were wrong because in his diary, "The business of living" were the words of a depth first: "There kills himself for love of a woman. There is killed because a love, any love , reveals to us in our nakedness, poverty, helplessness, nothing. .

I have bored, I know. Just wanted to share a number of thoughts that, in these weeks of study, they crowded my mind. E 'than before, all taken from the limited time and agitation for the exam, I had not given them the right space. In the end I'm happy ..

• happy that I made some cane with Dante (which was called when, and who knows if it really existed .. do not even have his signature, as it was smoked has forgotten copyright)
• glad to have chatted under a laurel in the company of Francesco
• happy to have discussed politics and campaigned Nicholas
• glad I dreamed with Thomas a world of justice and respect
• glad to have rice of the oddities of Zeno Cosini
• happy that I looked in the mirror together with Luigi that made me doubt to be the eyes of others and no one hundred thousand (in fact I have a bit with Louis' fight, I remain firmly convinced Spippy that there is only one)
• happy that I point the finger at one of the sharp shards of bottle Eugenio
• happy to have run along with Milton, a partisan of a private matter
• glad I remembered what I told my grandparents about the Nazis

.. and finally happy that I felt a bit 'naked, a bit' and a bit miserable 'helpless before love.

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Ah ...

I do not know if I were here too bold,

ch'i 'he answered only in this meter:

"Ah, now tell me how great a treasure would

Our Lord at first by St. Peter

he put the keys into his keeping? (...)"

I do not know if I am too wicked,

that while I answer with another question:

"Ah, now tell me what you have inhaled smoke before writing

poem I'm hallucinating?? "

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Early in the morning. Destination

sound the alarm, at 7. His eyes half-closed, piano. What an effort. peeped out from the beam of light that enters from window and leans on the bed. I follow him in the direction opposite to its direction, trying to go with the look outside, beyond the glass, as well as the shutters side by side, beyond the terrace. There is no need, because I hear a ticking which says that light rain and in fact it is too dim to say the sun. Where is the spring. And 'This is my thought of the 7 in the morning, where is the spring. Anyway, my body says no, that can not bear to sit up, the skin still want to feel the sheets on themselves, and stretch your legs to look for the corners still fresh. It 'something I do since I can remember, to look for the points left cold after a full night's sleep under the covers. Even in winter, no matter, the important thing is that there is quell'angolino. I move the clock one hour and sleep. Then the sound again and this time I can not postpone. This time away from me blankets and sheets, I collect stuffed animals scattered at the foot of the bed, the same as when I surround myself every night before closing his eyes. I put on my pajamas, and yes, I know, there you put your pajamas in the evening, but I do many things in reverse. Then a longing, maybe silly, but sweet just to think. I want the lunch time, then when I finished that I went to school. What is really sweet, like nostalgia, can you confirm the taste of coffee, hot but not boiling, if not, the Pavesini make the pap and is no longer good, they must be crisp, at least for a while. Everything in life must be so sweet and crunchy at the same time. Tender but strong, soft but strong. Maybe I should be so.

And 'This is the thought of 8:15 in the morning. How I would like to be.

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hell.

Tuu ... Tuu ... Tuu ...

Respond Spippolandia mailbox. Spippy is currently not available, leave a message after the SPI, and soon you will receive a Spippy comment on your blog. Aurevoir!

SPIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Ueeeeee, it's me! I like who? I Spippy, and who else? Ammvedi oh, put up your voice and this not even recognize you .. big deal! Nothing, I just wanted to inform our clients of Blogger that this Easter weekend (yes, I know that the weekend is almost over, but at least I deigned to tell, no? Mamma mia, more and more hateful voice is ..) I will not be present nor on Spippolandia, nor on your blog. No no, I'm not doing the classic gitarella out of town art cities .. and are not even skiing in the Alps when I come back? Eh boh, now I ask Virgil, he certainly knows how to be more precise. The fact is that Dante stops to chat with every damn we meet .. I think yesterday was more than an hour to get in front of the grinning red-hot at the foot of Boniface VIII. I always try to say "Have a nice Dantolino that I've got to want to come back from my peak for the feel of afezionados Spippolandia ".. but there's nothing to do. I was also told that Hell ciozza internet works, but ...

Oi, now I have to pull out, so best wishes to all and if Easter is late,

good Easter!

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Once upon a time, at Imola ...

One thing I always hear, for 4 years now, when I run. Meglio, when I run and it is spring. I do not speak of nature in bloom, the many colors that look to life after the winter hibernation, sometimes scorching sun at times still fresh, I can almost see him shaking rays the last veil of frost. Do not even speak of the wind each year, working like a Swiss watch, takes a run up and down along the valley between the hills channeled to address more forcefully the final sprint (long stroke which, ettepareva, forcing her to meet the undersigned do three times the effort). I speak of a longing, subtle but noticeable to those who, like me, Imola, still remembers vividly what brought with him the spring to 4 years ago: People, people, flags, trumpets on stage, foreign languages, will to win, confusion, tents, shacks of piadine placed everywhere, roads closed to traffic, road-signs parking areas to each tree, music and night came down from the hills. And then, at 13 to 14 on Saturday and Sunday, a strange silence, a rare, accompanied by a constant noise .. who call it noise I do not like, because "noise" is something that bothers you, you irritating. I waited all year, so for me it was not noise, it was melody.

seems like yesterday.

Hope with all my heart that this weekend had good weather, at least not raining. And the years, unfortunately rare, in which the race was scheduled for more than half of April, was the joy. Being woken in the morning by the sound of helicopters, even when I was in the old house. Having breakfast in a hurry, rush into the garden, observing the streets crowded with cars and the bike path traveled by waves of fans all colors. Helping my aunt and uncle "to make parking" and make it a bit 'too, could not fit in my yard 4 or 5 cars and a few engine. I remember one year, I still average, three children spent the night in a tent in my patch of lawn. Me and my friend strolled around them, they were very nice and then they were great and we did lose his head. Follow the race on TV, knowing that if we lowered the volume, the machines would make it feel coming from the windows. Ask dad to take me up the hills, to see just a little 'flutter of a few German happily drunk, certain details of Imola magically different huge truck parked along the road along the Rivazza, makeshift camps near the Tosa, the bridge entrance Autodromo hopelessly crowded with stalls. Be proud to see so many people here, right here in my town who simply love it. Feel the sadness grow, on Sunday afternoon, in return see all the cars, to motorcycles, campers, as well as coaches .. give some indication to avoid the queues, I little girl that I was wandering around in cycling between foreigners and Italians, and every time it did not seem real to have them all there.

2004 was the last year when the circuit hosted the Imola Grand Prix Formula 1. Forget my childish memories. Never mind the fact that the route was changed, the entire building that housed the box was blown up and rebuilt and then upgraded. Never mind that all this has cost a tot of money, as is readily obtainable. Never mind many things, that (I think I can speak for a certain number of Imola), we have remained on the rump. But the story, where we put it? Where we put the name of the circuit, except to say, is entitled to two certain gentlemen, Enzo and Dino Ferrari ? Where we put her curves, her climb over our beautiful hills and down to the river Santerno almost everything we should dive in? Where do I put the memory of those who, regardless of individual responsibility, here at Imola has left us his life? Sure, the memory of Senna and Ratzenberger not depend on a strip of asphalt, not as dependent on a statue or bouquets of flowers that anyone still supports us. I, for example, the Grand Prix at Imola or not, I'll always remember the noise of the helicopter that passed over my house to bring Airton hospital. However, I remain convinced that Eccleston would be left to the green if marked the whole shebang here. Just lower the ticket prices (now staggering in recent years) and would return to the galleries to be invaded by the faithful fans at Imola. But perhaps it is better run in the desert, with only a skinny little tree to do some 'shadow and no flag colored horizon. And if you see it, do not be fooled: it's just a mirage due all'arsura.

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Occhioni

When things go wrong, I approach her, she's close and look into your eyes. She has two beautiful blue eyes, I've never seen anyone else look crossed so far. I talk to even. Can not understand me, but it makes me feel better. Then maybe that's not true that can not understand me, because when there are heated discussions in the house and hot, is still on the threshold of the room-the battlefield. And look, peers, expression with a question mark of a disarming sweetness. If I cry, then you put beside me, silent but part of it. Perhaps that silence says a lot more of what they can say people with their chatter, their buzz, they talk about everything and anything alike.

In these days when we are alone, I often wonder if by chance you're bored. I dedicate myself to you as soon as possible, from one page to another, a commission and the other a plant to water and the other. But I have the impression that she really is to take care of me. Calls me several times to get up in the morning, as if afraid he might wake up and keep going to lose precious time to study or whatever. If you spend the morning on the terrace, with open books under the sun for a little skin color and the illusion of being on a deserted beach, she's there with me. Hot, has a crazy hot, I realize why it moves constantly change position every five minutes, looking for a slice of shade not yet warmed by his presence. But still there and falls asleep. Lunch joins me in the kitchen and so does suppertime. When returning after being out, waiting for me at the gate of the house style mom in apprehension. Today I had fallen asleep on the couch at about 19. I opened my eyes suddenly, convinced that he heard a noise or you have dreamed of something strange. None of this, there was simply her beside me, waiting for my wake. It must have been the strength of his gaze. Except that sometimes, indeed, when looking at me with those blue eyes, I wonder if you're bored. What should I play it more, even if it has a certain age and a markedly vivace.O anything but I should talk more, be more than friends. If only I could, I dive into that sea blue and peek inside his little head to know what to think, if you think something. He may have a clear idea about each family member, I know. Maybe there would have to do a tot of laughter. Perhaps more likely, find nothing of what I imagine. Why have all those eyes seemed to hide some kind of mystery ..

Post wrote on June 30, 2007.

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When we say that a song seems to have been written about you . Because the only difference between my life and the words that follow, is that I have studied and abandoned the guitar, not the plan.

And one day you wake up startled and suddenly you realize
that are no longer the fantastic day kindergarten
games, friends, and if you look around
can not see the usual things, but a vague and indistinct profile ...

And one day you walk down the street and suddenly
understand that you are not the same as the morning went to school,
that the world awaits you out there and you almost
realizing that you surrender to beat to beat is the age flies away ...

And your father will look older and every day becomes more distant, more
does not tell fairy tales and no longer takes your hand,
not seem to understand your dreams always argument between reality and hope
suspended between lust and alternate to go and stay ...
to go and stay ...

And one day think back to the house and is no longer the same
where slow time wasted when you were a child,
each item was a symbol and a
promise of incredible things and milky coffee in the kitchen ...

And the room with posters on the wall and scratched discs
lost in the midst of your books and gifts that not even remember,
seems the story of how many times we had
studied the plan and left years ago on two agreements ...

your father every time you feel bored and becomes distracted,
not invent more games and are losing touch with you ...
your mother about your dreams away and this has to do and say,
but he may not be able to manage to know that dreams ...
dreams that manage ...

Then one day in a book or a bar will be completely clear,
will understand that other people have made the same questions,
that there is only mild to expect, but a lot of bitterness and
is not without a heavy price to be great ...

Your records, your poster will be forever forgotten,
let your smile fade away as objects of mild
happy child, distant and dusty
find new roads, and anything else you'll have new friends ...

hear that your father is the same, you'll see a bit 'crazy, a little' essay
spend more equally in fear and courage,
fear and the courage to live as a burden that every person has brought fear and
the courage to say: "I have always tried
I have always tried ..."

Francesco Guccini.

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Other Today I feel so that America

Yesterday I was a defeatist spirit. But I tried to channel the negative energy into actions that do not damage your health, and my first and foremost of those who were around me to follow. So I focused on distant memories, and do not ask me why and how I came back to mind a late summer evening several years ago when a friend of mine + + delinquent friends took me to the defaulting party Riolo Unit Spa (hamlet near Imola). That night they performed the blacks, the mini-concert with proceeds to be donated to charity. In particular, I have appeared crisp sharp details bedlam of young girls into a frenzy under the stage. Hands up, jumps into the air, shrieking gallineschi. For goodness sake, do not criticize anyone .. nor the group, who admits to knowing very little, nor the fans, because if someone saw me at a concert of Vasco, I could easily be compared to a teenager with hormones on the size of Easter eggs that blending the speed of light. The fact is .. the fact is .. I do not even know what is done. Except that yesterday was a defeatist spirit and when I remembered how the crowd was hot during the execution of "Sex " I decided to pick up the text and remove it word for word.

Having sex in a toilet hidden P roprio in a process we have to be? Look, I tell you, we start bad ..
smoke a Marlboro after intercourse Matela you was Marlboro, which I to my lungs I want and then I go running and now I can do 11 km would not want to burst after the first 300 m
or do in the car beside the road .. oh well sure, if it passes a maniac is bread for his teeth. Then he has already happened that a grandparent has attempted to interrupt a tete a tete and question my experience I would not repeat. Also because I was interested in him, not me.
earn my bad cold going Ah but then you just try to go!
feel a little 'animals, a bit' primitive I understand, should I wear to Wilma Flinstones hot to stimulate your spirits .. everyone has their fantasies, for that matter.
hear you breathe, feel alive If we do want to be the case that you breathe, I believe. Rather, committed to transforming my breath for something more breathless, if you can.
And convince your going on vacation Treasury, there is no need to wait for my Levin tents. Would go a very long time and I am afraid you would not know to resist. We find an alternative, you say?
send it a day at sea and in every room Aridaiiiie, then that is down the toilet!
try the recipes, test kitchen "Mmmm ssssiii, friggimi tuttaaaaaaaaaaa !!!".. for charity.
use Nutella, use the flour Nutella okay, even now. But the flour? After I covered the whole of white powder that you do, I slam on my stomach 2 or 3 eggs, dough a bit 'and then proceed to make the dough with a rolling pin? Oh, if it has to eliminate panzetta can also try ..
watch her body, discovering the shape Her whom? He had told the two of us alone? You're not called the grandfather??
hear footsteps ... is someone who comes back ... is precisely the grandfather.
Having sex, suck the pulp Oh, I do not see what you do, do not want to know nullaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!
and away the shame and guilt Ah, if you are not ashamed ...
sunning on the sand, roll in the mud recap: c it, chocolate, flour, pulp, sand, mud .. but the word hygiene exist in your dictionary or watch the event that was unfortunately torn page?
caress her legs, suddenly in a tango I'm imagining all covered in flour and nutella to dance a tango. What a joy.
sniff the skin, finding the smell E c hiss that smells after these high-level culinary experiments!
move from sex to make love .... Now it is useless to make the romantic just because you had poor performance and want to sweeten the pill ..

And more that America .. You can say that
other than the music .. you scream when you're
wild ... siiiiiiiiiii?
else that America .... eh I know I know I know ... .. modestly

night and live a long life the Treasury does not matter, I know you can do better but not tonight ..
still have his scent through his fingers .. the scent of his grandfather?
wake up hungry and do it for hours .. hungry?? hungry?? How can you talk about hunger?
move from sex to make love .... yes, tomorrow's treasure, tomorrow .. now sleep. That's good, so ..

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Today I feel so

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alternatives. What

this morning in the fog, I came across in real life. Rather, in a possible variant of real life. I pedaled to throttle, because I was late as usual tremendous. I did the slalom among the people walking along the bike path, wondering irritably why did the old folks retire should leave home at dawn. To me that the old folks are very nice - apart from those who do appreciate slippery when they see me jogging in the summer and how much would be for twenty years younger and a bit 'out of breath more - but they usually do this very hard to understand it. And every morning I get nervous, as if for the first time I see them. In the meantime I had to yell even against the fog, which already last night made me angry, because, after having been a friend of mine, I had to drive to the 40 wide-eyed and sleep despite the pain in the ass, despite the inevitable at critical moments - attached to the seat, with the reflection of its lights to facilitate the whole. This morning, even snebbiava, that the fog was like rain, if you walk up that you do not notice, but if you expedite a minimum or if you go by bike, like myself, you feel like being inside a sauna, and infinitely more cold with a moisture content compared to that tropical forests are dry. But perhaps those who do not have to deal regularly with the phenomenon of fog, like the rest of us are of the area, can not understand me fully, but believe me when I tell you that the word is unbearable. In short, all taken by the leadership of my two-wheeled racing car, to control the clock and curses to cry in the deep mattutinsclerotico of myself, I risked to invest two living beings. A man and a dog. A blind man with his guide dog. And this afternoon, as I ran, I could not help but think back to that time. I figured this would be like if, instead of February 26, 2008 an embarrassed mumble "excuse me" and then set off wildly to the library, I had stopped and I parked the bike. As would be closer to the man and ask him his name, the name of the dog. How would ask, 'Would you walk with me? If you want the story to the world around us.. " What then, what I said? Well, maybe I just started and the fog effect which shows the Rock Imola wrapped in her curtain. I would have said that all had something of a medieval, ancient, mysterious. I would then reconnected to the feeling of last night, seeing little guide to how the road ahead, having the feeling of being separate and distant from everything and everyone. We laughed while I described what had been an angry old woman with a driver who had slowed down the last second, though she was on the pedestrian crossing for some time. We would probably joke about all those things that until a moment before I looked like the end of the world. And, if we had been together all day, I might even try my hand in the representation of the fog that slowly rises, giving way to a pale sun, but spring already. I would have taken to the street where I'm going to run normally, I would have told to leave the dog and let it run in the fields and in the meantime I would have got a bit 'of colors, from light sky blue to violet flowers, the winter blues houses at the green grass in the gardens. And I thought it would be a much better February 26.

Watch Gangs With Ross Kemp Online

, quite simply, they say a good movie. For men

I rely on a trailer and reviews found on the network to get closer to a movie last night that sent my heart and my tear glands into a tailspin. I tried, I swear, I tried to write anything that could even resemble a comment, but I do not think to live up to. The only thing I can say is, if you have not already done so, to go see this masterpiece of our cinema. In defiance of the Germans, that they are all envious.




The film, "delicate" and "touching" was directed by Antonello Grimaldi ("A crime impossible," 2000), based on a screenplay by Francesco Piccolo ( "Days and Clouds", 2007), Laura Paolucci ("The event horizon", 2005) and the same Nanni Moretti, who also appears as an actor. The story is essentially inner experience, hence the undeniable difficulties of making it on the screen.

summer the manager Pietro Paladini (Moretti: "I am a self-sufficient," 1976; "Bianca," 1984; "Palombella Rossa", 1989, etc..) And his brother Carlo (Alessandro Gassman: "The turkish bath - Hamam, 1997) are found by chance at having to save two unknown women who are at risk of drowning at sea. The same day, just returned home, Peter finds his wife Lara died, which necessarily disrupts his life, especially because it is to deal alone with the education, growth and problems of his daughter Claudia (l ' newcomer Blu Yoshimi), a ten-year-old in fifth grade and that, while apparently giving no signs of serious disorders following the death of mother, is inevitably forced to carry within themselves a burden too big for his age, the balance of the child is hanging by a thread and not only his, as his father, all too aware of the delicacy of the situation, he felt the duty (for her), but the need (for him), to cover it with attention and can compensate for the absence of the mother. In doing so, Peter gives to relatives, colleagues and acquaintances more concerns than it confers on the small Claudia: In fact, his decision to desert the work, ignore all (in particular of an impending merger between two companies) and give up a coveted job position, to pass Instead the whole day in the garden under the school of her daughter, waiting for the bell or a glimpse of Claudia at the window, on the one hand creates loops in piety, understanding, solidarity, admiration, esteem, on the other those who knew him in perplexity, anxiety, concern, desire to help him get out of that condition. After all, life in the park are less boring than you might imagine, every morning going through the same people who tend to be almost complete strangers to become friends or at least points of reference to cling to, or more often cling to Peter, as was the centerpiece of a microcosm of everyday ritual and ritual gestures. The park thus catalyzes the various characters: Simoncini Eleonora (Isabella Ferrari: "A Taste of the Sea", 1982), the rich lady saved by Peter in the water, which will have an unrestrained intercourse with the final call, his secretary Anna (the nostrana Alba Rohrwacher increasingly launched in the film "My Brother is an Only Child," 2007; "Days and Clouds," 2007; "Heartache", 2008), Mr Sam (the always good Silvio Orlando: "The bag man", 1991) 's friend and colleague, Jean Claude (Hippolyte Girardot, "Love suspicion", 2005), licensed from, and even the great businessman Steiner (Roman Polanski's "Tess", 1979), jealous of Eleanor, the airhead sister his wife (the original Valeria Golino, the envy of fellow Scamarcio: "Breath", 2002), Jolanda (Kasia Smutniak: "Thirteen at the table", 2004), a girl who walked the dog, always following the same path, the classmates of child, parents, teachers, a mother with a child "differently abled".

The overall picture that emerges is at least original, delicate, deep, intense and touching, thanks to the performance of the protagonist Moretti, who finally returns to the screen by a film actor with more comprehensive, in the wake of "The Son's Room "(2000), abandoning the narrow (though pleasant, engaged and politically incorrect) horizons of the first film, which trapped in the role always equal to himself, sewn to measure and not to export abroad. In this case, however, Nanni actor manages to keep under the lines, not to overdo it, not to become the usual caricature of himself, hitting the target and thus creating a moving family tragedy and human, universal key for the mourners who knows how to touch and appreciated everywhere in Europe and worldwide. Between the first and last Moretti is apparent as the difference between the first and Benigni Roberto Benigni "La vita è bella", and it is true in both cases some progress over time, although there is much more to shaping and improving terms of acting, a great first step, however, has been made since 2000 both came out - so to speak - their "backyard" (and "backyard"!) to take part in more comprehensive works. As for the letter of the CEI (Italian Episcopal Conference), who criticizes the final sex scene in the film because it was too heavy and thrust, it is worth mentioning the right answer Procacci producer: "The letter speaks for itself", since when in fact a producer, director, actor or actress must be accountable for their actions to the CEI? The protagonist of the scene and the director discussed the need to support the hub within the thematic structure of the plot and probably does, but even if they do not, only this account or if the scene is justified / justifiable or not within its filmic context: everything else is boring ... and the reference is to censorship of any kind (ideological, political, moral and religious).

The film (112 min.), The drama, the novel by Sandro Veronesi (Bompiani), was produced in Italy in 2007 and released in theaters by 2001 from 8 February 2008 Distribution. The decision of the criticism is good (three stars out of five), and in fact it is a deep and intense film, to see at least for the scene of despair lonely Moretti (grade 7). Paolo Mereghetti, for "Il Corriere della Sera", writes: "(...) Moretti shows all-round actor. (...) Alessandro Gassman as his brother as a happy odd couple with Moretti, Valeria Golino gives the impression that it could be that her body to give the sister of Paladini, messed up, emotional and unsettling. What , quite simply, they say a good movie . "Nevertheless, in Berlin the German criticism is divided: there are those who advised the Italians to deal with things better suited to their character (pasta, for example) and give up the cinema.

Review by David Borrello.

Project Report To Start A Business

My, as well as our, dear Mr. President Obama. Dr

My, as well as our, dear Mister President,

After a fight not having its equal with the brothers of the Cabal Verdadera Masonry and Universal Masonry of Great Britain and Scotland, I can assure you that you shall win the election to the office ofPresident of the United States.

You are the unique candidate who cangive back honor and prestige to the United States of America which have been tarnished by the Bush administration. For reasons of which you are well aware, the "all time cheat" of the powerful lobbies could well again happen, thus eliminating, momentarily, your chances of being elected.

However, you need not worry because you shall remain the real representative of your people, of your country and of the rest of the world which believes in andstrives for democracy and the liberties for which we fought. We also believe in a sense of responsibility, including yours.

I regret not to be able to inform you personally of the following, butyou are certainly aware of the reaons which keep me here inSwitzerland. I noted that you did not use the information enclosed inthe letter I sent to Ms Hillary Rodham, in September-October 1993. The letter was sent "registered mail" from the Postal Office, PlaceWilson, Nice, France, and was received by the White House whichapposed its official seal on the return receipt.

My letter informed MsRodham of the preparations which lead, eight years leater, to thehorror of September 11, 2001, information which she should havecommunicated to her husband, President of the United States at thattime.

My condition as an "Italian political refugee in Switzerland" createsgreat problems for me. Manuela Birgit, my wife and an Americancitizen, can do no more for me and the US Embassy in Bern wants tohear nothing about my case after having received notice from thegregarious followers of President Bush.

Good luck to "our" future President. My wife and I have great hopesthat once you are elected President, our dramatic situation willchange. We have no doubt about your ethics and your honorability.

My wife and I extend to you and your family our warmest greetings.

Prof. Alessandro and Ms. Manuela Birgit Vanno of 'Vanni di Roccabianca

Rue Rothschild 19, CH-1202

Geneva, Switzerland-

Milau Artiste By Scott Kay

Ratatouille - Diaporama 33 lecteurs sur L'Insolite

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ridiculous Freudian

I'm not disappeared, do not worry. A little 'black by commitments and Scazzi different, but still alive. And sorry if I did not have time to respond to your brilliant and interesting interpretations of my dream-hallucinatory hallucinogen (yes I know, I know you would have preferred if I had posted a allucirosse ) as soon as I'll try to fix it. And see also here and there in your zompettare bloggosi corners, leaving a few words and a trail of scent "grape-kiwi" of the wonderful bubble bath that now stands in my shower.

Meanwhile, to cheer the waiting, I leave you a nice treat that I found recently in the mail. I did smile, I hope to do the same effect on you, my friends spippolosilosi. Good weekend to everyone.

LETTER TO LUCIANA Litizzetto ANDREA BIAVARDI, DIRECTOR OF THE MONTH "FOR MEN"

I confess. I succumbed to the temptation to buy the new men's magazine 'Magazine For Men'.
Besides, how could I resist the fascinating topics announced by the cover (which, incidentally, portrays a man with a face like a dick and a white terry towel that does so much 'cool by dressing')? At least four
memorable titles:
- 'Let her say enough tonight!'
- 'Rich by Easter: 15 great ideas'
-' Tips: eat twice halves'
- 'Stop smoking, and flights to the Caribbean '.

I do not want to disappoint the gifted director Andrew Biavardi, but to say "enough" on a woman are already very good all by themselves because usually we have had enough after the first three minutes. Your challenge is to make her say "AGAIN!" To the limit. Think about for the next issue.

regard to the slogan 'rich by Easter', well, Mr. Biavardi if he wants to do things properly, in the next issue also attach two nice gadget: hood and wrench.

the promise 'Eat two and become the middle', however, they also tend to believe. You have to see half of it. If I eat twice, Mr. Biavardi, I get the exact half of the Parthenon, in fact.

Finally, also on the cover depicts the word 'Quit smoking and flights to the Caribbean'. Look sir, I have never known someone who has stopped smoking and who went on a tropical island to celebrate. On the other hand I have heard a lot of people who start smoking illegal substances and he made some trips without even leaving the house that she did not even imagine.

But this is only the beginning. An illusion that the worst is already all over the cover but no, the best is inside!

On page 52 there is a compelling and informative service with photos editorial on 'How unfasten the bra ' which takes account of the various models (classic, seductive, sports ...). Apart from the intelligence service itself, I would like the council to quickly undo the sports model, which is: "If you give us a spirit is cut with scissors! . Biavardi, I assure you that I am a woman very funny, but if a man who may have known little, in a moment of intimacy draws me out from his pocket a pair of scissors, at least I think it's the monster of Milwaukee and best's kicked in the balls that the month after the person in question moves from her Donna Moderna Magazine For Men.

On page 50 then, you touch the top thanks to a service that addresses the thorny question: 'If your pet iguana tries with your wife' . The article says, in fact, that there are several cases of sexual harassment against women of iguana with the cycle. Listen Mr. Biavardi, she has never seen a woman with a cycle? Follow me sir, do not speak of a woman riding the scooter. I speak of women in those days there. Here look, I have those days in the wax It's cousin and the friendliness of Godzilla, I would approach to within a hundred yards included a Velociraptor is' iguana.

And finally, the apotheosis itself: the test 'Are you a stallion or a duffer?' . The questions are among the funniest things I've ever read in my life. In practice, you are deemed a stallion if you answer yes to questions like this: 'Did you ever do with a woman and, shortly afterwards, with his roommate?' A lot of times! At the nursing home 'Domus Mariae'. O 'To be called by a woman asking if you can come to you at nine o'clock in the morning?' Yes, of course, by a representative of Elf. I will stop here. Women, console ourselves: once a month we will have our own things well, but they have once a month for Men Magazine at newsstands.

Mica know who is worse!

Luciana Littizetto

Baby Footprint W Wings Tattoo

pills.

Abstract: I am studying Svevo. In particular, as it happens, the "Conscience of Zeno". Now, say that this book is steeped in every line of Freudian psychology, is an understatement. Too little.

will fly, not to bore you (but especially not to bore myself, now that the mental strippo Cosini I sick and tired), the details of this, I must admit, a beautiful work of our first-twentieth-century literature . E planer (I also have to land after flying from somewhere, right?) Directly on what really interests me. This is a seemingly intractable question: I am well aware, in fact, how many brilliant minds have been questioned in the course of centuries, the thorny question of the interpretation of dreams. You say: "Sigmund gave birth to a special treaty on the subject, why not of engaging him?". Why I, as a big dreamer, which I consider myself, I'm happy not to reduce the significance of my productions night (oh my God, it sounds bad) to cold psycho-scientific explanations. My dreams of any kind whatsoever, from the grotesque to the tragic, from the pornographic comic, deserve more. Deserve fantasy, which I think is a great thing to be imaginative.

And here come into play you, my dear. You should know that among the thousands I've done, there is a dream, in particular, I was pretty well printed well in the memory. Although to date back to the years of elementary Still, for idearlo, my single neuron Gina should not have sweated who knows how many shirts, although they are sincere, give rise to a certain disgust.

" E 'on my birthday. They are still tiny peak, eight or nine years at most. As every year, I invited my classmates and some other boyfriend to my house to celebrate. Mom prepared ciocorì I love so much: that is Pops, Mars and butter. Daddy, as always, will entertain all of us in letting us play at the Merchant Fair, giving away lots of candy, chocolates and peanuts. Suddenly the doorbell rings, I run to open but I encounter a person who not only did I not invited, but I just do not know. And 'a man of color, young enough. He says it may go up, that he wants to leave his gift. I do sit, but the stranger is a word just long enough to deliver the packet and then goes away. I and the gap inside the box, I just a nut. A simple nut. From the living room of my buddies call me, then support the nut on the desk in my bedroom and I get to celebrate for the rest of the afternoon. When, in the evening, after everyone had left, I go back to my room, the nut is still there. Exactly where I had left. Only it's open, split in two. And out from it a huge spider web, the threads of which branch off in the direction of all four walls. So that, not only in its center, but in the center of all my room I see a spider to sit motionless on the size abnormal. "

Fantasia, fantasy people ..! How you interpret it, this dream?

Tamil Words In Marrage

Breakfast Spippy

".. because no matter where you run, you're going to always run into yourself"

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Now I'm lost and I'm screaming for help

There are images and feelings that came to my mind when this song takes me away and part with him. The same kidnap me if I look at the photo of me and Vale posted 2 days ago, but stronger. Because when the music is tied to certain memories, there's the piece that takes. Because when this song starts again is summer, is again the sea, is again Mojito Beach, is a new thirst for a fresh mint leaf to slide slowly from his lips. Above me the stars took the place of the sun caressed me everywhere all day. People before me, a lot of people, drinking, dancing, kissing, sticking his hands everywhere, but to seize curves for some nice soft side. Emotion inside me strange and strong attraction to the same emotion. I am surrounded only by my tanned skin, as if the skirt and tank top I wear no longer existed. ".. Relax, take it easy .." I feel lighter and lighter and I feel that I could drink forever, because the more drunk so I could not anyway. Something in the veins, more powerful than alcohol, more powerful than any drug .. I can not give it a name, but no matter. A funny picture insists on offering me a beer, pass by me at Yale as a ping pong ball, hoping that one of them sooner or later give way to his clumsy attempts to approach. But I'm not there anymore, that body What time is moving is no longer my own, my gaze pulls him away and pushes his arms raised, between the passion to two breaths very close between the synchronization of two docks waving urgently looking for himself, like two magnets. For a moment it seems that summer will stay forever on those notes and that those stars may be there, to dance with me, unaware of time and life forever and fears and all that is pure pleasure and happiness and smile. The beach is flooded un'ebrezza by magic, the grains of sand are bright gold that rains down on all those bodies and sticks to them, to further emphasize their sway .. .. they play together they blend into each other 'else.

2009 Littlest Pet Shop Advent

usurped throne

I rarely wander among the television channels in the afternoon. Either because now my permanent home became the library, or because, even if you were under my roof, I do not think I would try any kind of pleasure to see what offers Mediaset or RAI or La7 or MTV or any other channel Pincopallo. But as they say, when Muhammad does not go to the mountain, behold, the mountain lifts her big beautiful ass and go to Muhammad. So today, in a moment of pause and add, of great boredom, I started to wander around the net. Not for your wonderful blog, which ones I want to look them calmly, and not when they are in terms of a corpse because of fatigue and smaronamento more in total. The fact is that I lost in one of those sites full of gossip and spetegulèz, from whom I learned the names of two new tronista that a few weeks camping in Men and Women, one of the most-useless never existed. Along with Big Brother, Island of the Famous, the Farm, Door to Door, Matrix, One Morning (or morning? Bah!), The Trial of the cook, the usual unknown, One Hundred Against, heritage, Mouth .. then I say that I am committed to even write with a capital letter.

But the point is not my disgust with the Italian television. The point is that the 2 tronista called Valentina and Paola. And I want to show them to you:

Now, I can assure you that I know of two girls, a Paola and Valentina, a blonde and the other payments as the ladies above. And I show them too:

Now tell me, my dear, we are or we are not faced with a spectacular example of the usurpation of the throne?

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Surrender to nothing

anger. Anger at the time that I let go too often without actually living it. Anger at the paranoia in my head and get drunk I can not contain, enclose within a barbed fence. Anger at the lack of protection that I offer to my heart, exposing it to weather the storms of my lunatic. Anger at the thousands of "if" that can never be transformed into facts and leave pales in comparison to a thousand-and-a "but." I watch them fade away, property and disillusioned. Anger at the tales to which I cling to the good intentions only theoretical, for the nice surprise to find that dream back to a page that I decided to turn. I feel anger for the independence that I would like to close the noose around the throat that I feel every time I would like to draw me my hours and my living space, followed by another even more stifling than the guilt for not being grateful to who keeps me. Anger at the disappointment of the Alma Mater Studiorum of Bologna, because of when I attend seems to me to look at my future through a broken pair of binoculars, which refers to blurred images and distant, unreadable. Anger at missed opportunities.

anger, and too much. A healthy anger, however, those that do not put your feet on the head with remorse. Which do exist, but which does not grant the honor to hold the rudder. Spippy grits his teeth and feel that they can shake off all those weights that do not make her smile as he would like. Spippy clenches his fists and a plan to live a life that is not his. Spippy maybe also try to resume writing as he did once, why fix some ink stain on a white sheet is the equivalent for her to get in front of a mirror and try to understand what goes and what does not. For what and for whom getting drunk is really worth of paranoia and what and by whom, however, it is better to practice abstinence purifying.

I have a notebook in front of me, one of those for children, with figures outlined only by dark contours. It's up to me to decide whether to leave them in black and white or color.

begin from the sky. It is no longer dark. Pass me a striking blue.

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Internaute

Alessandro Vanno de'Vanni

CONGRESS OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

TO ALBERTO GONZALES, ATTORNEY GENERAL

WASHINGTON DC

PETITION

To be given to Congress of the United States of America

Dear Mr. Gonzales,

I have always worked with « intelligence » organizations linked to the United States of America (USA) and have always respected the principles of liberty and the fundamental rights of man as written down in the Constitution of the USA. I ask therefore to be auditioned by the competent commissions of Congress so as to verify the veracity of my declarations concerning

1. the attack made on the US Marines of the Peace Force in Lebanon in 1983 where 250 US citizens lost their lives ;

2. the terrorist plane attacks on the Twin Towers, September 11, 2001.

It was with a great sense of responsibility that I supplied the US, Italian and French authorities with information on these two events, respectively months and years before they took place. However, my warnings were in vain.

I also informed the Italian authorities of the terrible responsibility of certain national institutions which had planed and executed acts of terrorism which had killed and maimed many innocent victims, such as the attack on the Bologna train station in 1980.

Also in the 1980s, my US « intelligence colleagues » asked me to encourage the Italian Minister of Defense to modernize the fleet of military aircraft and bombardiers. They did not want to assume this responsibility directly and found in me the perfect advocate. After a ten-year minitious preparation, my purposed was attained when I publicly announced the obsolete, dangerous and costly aircraft fleet of the Italian Air Force. The consequences of this scandal, in which billions of dollars were stolen by political parties, by the Minister of Defense and by superior officers of the Italian Military Forces, and which had lead to the construction of war planes in a partnership with Brazil, obliged the Italian government to change their air fleet and purchase the F16 and/or F18 from the United States.

However, the Italian government also had to change the motors of the « Brazilian » planes with Rolls-Royce motors and modify the armament systems as well as all the electronic devices. The total cost of the acquisition and modification of the « Brazilian » airplanes cost the Italian tax payers almost 50 million dollars for each air plane !

My rending public the corruption of the Italian military forces clearly exposed me to great danger. Attacks upon my life were made on three occasions, the most serious one being a car « accident » in 1991 (my car was pushed over a cliff by a huge black station wagon). It was a miracle that I remained alive but I had over thirty broken bones and stayed paralyzed for six months !

Upon the advice of US intelligence officers, I left Italy in December 1992 when the Italian secret services (Sismi) and the Ministry of Defense were ready to arrest me for reasons which were perfectly ridiculous and entirely invented. I was ultimately declared innocent, except for a « detail » which was of interest to the Italian Military and for which I was condemned to a 10 months’ prison sentence. I decided to leave Italy and traveled to Nice, France and Barcelona, Spain until I returned to Italy in January 1994 since I had received notice that all charges against me had been dropped. However it was a trap. I was arrested on January 9, 1994, sent to the prison of Regina Coeli where I was kept in solitary confinement and tortured until my release from prison in August-September 1994 when I was put under house arrest. I had gone on a hunger strike for 40 days and the authorities were afraid of the reaction my possible death would provoke.

Again, in 1997, I was advised by US military officers to leave the country. The Italian secret services (Sismi) had given Judge Cherubini of the Court for Minors (a special court whose existence can be traced back to the time of fascism and which escapes all democratic control) the order to arrest me and place me in a mental institution ! I decided to go to Vienna, Austria, where I was under the protection of the Vatican, in order to submit myself to various psychiatrical, psychological, neurological and psychosomatical tests in specialized university clinics. The results of these tests evidenced that I was in perfect mental condition and a psychologically stable person. I sent the results of these tests back to Italy. The judge who had given the order to arrest me and put me in a mental institution was « eliminated ». After my return to Italy, I stayed in the house of Ms Anna Maria Angelotti Fileccia whose lived in the Park of Marcigliana. There I was in permanent contact with the US military forces who warned me that an assassination was planned to eliminate me.

In March 2000, I decided to definitely leave my country and all my possessions and asked Switzerland for political asylum, as provided for by the Geneva Convention of 1951 and the Rome Convention of 1950 and all their subsequent ratifications.

Switzerland maintains me in a condition of « imprisonment » for the past seven years and deprives me of all my human and social rights such as the sequestering of my passport and all my documents.

The Italian consulate in Geneva informed all the Italian regional associations as well as Italian nationals with whom I had relationships that they should avoid all contact with me. I have been branded as a « very dangerous » person and as a « professional killer ». Rumors have it that I am a false political refugee and a « dangeous mafioso » ! All these manœuvres are naturally intended to isolate me.

You will find here enclosed a letter I wrote to the President of the Council of Europe in which I evidenced the illegal actions of Switzerland since no one can be deprived of his identity and of his freedom of movement (1). Mr Davis, Secretary General of the Council of Europe, replied to my letter by saying that activities contrary to international law committed by Switzerland are a « private affair » which cannot be judged by the Court of Justice of the European Union ! Apparently the Council of Europe is composed of villains who wash their hands like Pontius Pilatus.

To overcome this blockade, I sent a petition to the European Union to ask its government composed of the European countries, to take this affair into its hands since the European Union must respect the Convention of Rome and the Declaration of human rights. Countries which do not comply must be judged and if they are found responsible, should be eliminated from the European Union. I am sending you herewith the petition (2) which I sent to the President of the European Parliament, M. Hans-Gert Pöttinger, in Italian (an English translation is in preparation).

The United States of America has observers in the Council of Europe as well as in the European Union. Instructed by your honor, they have the possibility to intervene on my behalf in these two institutions. Your country and your military industry know well all that I did in behalf of the freedom, the security and human rights in your country and in the rest of the free world, although my actions were often accomplished outside official rules and regulations. Your country now has the possibility to pay back its debt to me. I only ask that my fundamental rights be respected and that I be allowed to live the life of a free man.

Professor Charles A. Kupchan, expert for the Council of Foreign Relations and professor at Georgetown University, declares that “the security of the United States will come from a political Europe capable of asserting its values and of defending its interests in a complex and unstable world.” However Europe is represented by men and women that are traitors to its founding values of democracy, freedom and human rights and will thus never be able to defend the interests of the United States and the civilized world.

I will be grateful for any actions your country might undertake to help me achieve that aim.

Alessandro Vanno de’Vanni

Geneva, 22 ^nd June 2007

Attached : My letter to the President of the Council of Europe

My letter to the President of the Parliament European Union

Avenue de Bel-Air 47A, CH-1225 Chêne-Bourg/Geneva, Switzerland