so what?

to all those bloggers who state in the home page I'M ALWAYS RIGHT AND YOU ARE ALWAY WRONG: go fuck yourself.

stop acting like a baby and grow up, you are not what you say you are but what you deserve to be. that is, start writing something smart FIRST, and THEN i will think about it and see if you have any chance.

last night at last opened Copacabana, this club on the beach, and everybody was so excited for it like it was the event of the year and it really is here because it's such a summer thing.

even though it's never really sumer here.

but anyway there's tons of clubs like that in italy so it was nothing special for us.

and my friend and i went in and without asking for anything they gave us the pass for the vip lounge, and the best part is that they denied is to so many hot girls. how lame...
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Bag 1 Status TRACING CONTINUES. PLEASE CHECK BACK LATER

how many ways do you know to say that you have no fucking idea whatsoever where my bag is? oh but i totally understand you, it's so damn hard to get the right bag on the right plane once, let alone twice. and in a row!

shitfuck

i had some summer clothes that i totally don't need because it's raining like hell, a box of condoms that i don't need because gf is busy with exams, a bottle of chianti red 2004 that i don't need because gf is busy with exams and anyway i still have the old bottle to finish, a brand new 50ml acqua di giò that i don't need because my friend has it anyway, two books of acoustics for architecture that I FUCKING NEED RIGHT NOW BECAUSE I HAVE AN EXAM IN TWO DAYS AND I HAVE NOTHING TO STUDY ON!!!

life goes on, i will paint.
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an ugly mix of stress anger tiredness and a little happiness for italy's ridiculous victory. and a simbolic headache for having spent 2 days sorrounded by people who spoke my own mother language.

milan is one big fucking stupid fat live blog full of people who think out loud like we give a fuck that they have been waiting 7 minutes at the counter or that last year their son's name was mispelled. WTF? buddy, i'm here to give you the greatest news that you have the right to shut up. your buzzing mumbling makes me feel bad about you and i feel very much like starting a fight.
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girlfriend told me that even though she doesn't know me -well just very very little- she has now complete trust in me. this came after i told her that she drinking beer with her girlfriends at home made me want to have a glass of wine and kiss her.

but most of all after a month and a half we spent together.

i must have done something to her because she has been with me even though she didn't know if she could trust me or not for such a long time that if it was me i would have looked for somebody else after the first week.
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this blog is getting fucking boring.
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ok i got it. if i don't watch the game italy do good.

yes, do and not does... did you know that countries' names (at least when referring to a team) are treated as plural? like,

today italy play against czech republic, they'll certainly win.

i read it on BBC.co.uk, and i'll tell you it was quite a surprise... i mean, english is reknown to be a straight language, very practical, that doesn't like abstract terms, and then you treat the name of a country (clearly singular) as a plural entity because it refers to a team. teambeing a singular term as well, but describing a group of people.

two (2) passages to get from singular to plural. (mario would say) what's this for a language?
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no idea of what to write, but i promised myself i have to write something smart every day.

got home from gf's place, got a haircut by the best hairdresser in town. he's from nigeria, got in poland four years ago, learnt polish here -and i can assure you it's not an easy task at all- and he does my hair just like i want it. and i didn't even have to tell him much the first time i went there. we talked a little about world championship of course, and basically he's happy of ghana, which i easily understand, and he thinks italy is playing a very good soccer, which i find quite unbelievable.

then the song on the radio finished and the commercial started and it was ITALIAN!

i asked him for what obscure reason an italian radio was playing in poland, and he pointed at the satellite tv and showed me that it was set on Gay.TV. i think it was cool.
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there is something about sex that sometimes it just doesn't work. mainly when you know you will have sex long before the encounter and you're all tensed up and make sure your room is perfect and then you fuck it over.

you feel stressed and that's the best way ever to get bad sex. ever.

so tonight i'm trying not to have sex and maybe it will work the other way around. like it will be my worst no-sex ever...

and if you now something about my [a href=have_a_look_at_the_previous_post]girl[/a] i'm gonna have to tell her that i want to have a passionate night of animal sex so that she will decide not to give me anything...

also it's warm and sunny again and of course i have to study today and i can't go to the beach. i'm gonna have a talk with the weather man because he should fix his sun/rain schedule based on my exams' schedule.
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sometimes you realize you have the right friends who like the wrong things. not that they are wrong by themselves, but they don't suit your needs at all so that you are left with two choices and not one more: "the lonely heart in the uber-cool alternative artist place", or "the greatest fun of all times with the funnierest people ever in a shithole".

and i can say i know every shithole around here like my own pockets.

other times you realize that you know everything about women. at least about my girl. it's as simple as that: if i say "let's do it" she says "i don't feel like" and if i say "i'm busy i'm tired i don't want to" she says "ok i'll dry my hair and be at your place".

and now i realize that the above paragraph can be easily misunderstood: we are not talking about sex, we are talking about every SINGLE thing.

holy moly italy was a shame against US, but somebody gotta explain to them 'mericans the difference between soccer and football.
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if you can hear this then you are not that old after all...
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i opened a coconut yesterday, is that fucking hard! all i had was a swiss army knife and the internet and of course i found the easy and effortless way of opening it just seconds after i succeded. it took me an hour forty minutes. six thousands seconds.

and of course it was freaking old and... -ok, not so fresh- so i decided to give it to my friends. they liked it.

so right now i'm doing some rendering for my project. not that it should interest you at all, but just to say that as soon as i finishe (i.e. no less then 48 hours) i'll upload pictures of the challenge...
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friend: fuck guys i haven't had sex for three weeks...
me: oh come on you saw your girlfriend just two days ago!
friend: ya but that doesn't count. that's lovemaking.

also, the orgasm is the time when human ego performs at it's most. no other moment in a man's or woman's life will ever be more selfish.
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eight clubs in six hours last night. it fuckin sucks.
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The Perfect Guide On How To Lose Weight And Give A Descent Shape To Your Beer Belly (And Occasionally Save Some Money) - IDIOT PROOF!!

Step 1: The phone call (difficulty: easy) - Call the water company and tell them you don't want hot water to be delivered to your house anymore

Step 2: Meditation (difficulty: easy) - Step in your shower (do NOT turn the water on yet), look at the faucet, think about what's gonna come out of it and how it's gonna feel

Step 3: The second thought (difficulty: extremely easy) - Step out of the shower in desperation once you start thinking of how cold the water is gonna be

Step 4: Action (difficulty: medium) - You need a good reason now to shower, right? So down on the floor and start exercising until you are so hot and sweaty that nothing could stop you from getting under a flow of water, and so exhausted that you don't have physical sensation anymore.

Step 5: The final encounter (difficulty: medium to difficult, extremely difficult in certain cases) - Shut down your brain: you are a hot stinky animal, you walk directly into the shower and turn the water on so that it hits you immediately and you don't have time for a second thought.

Repeat once a day for at least twenty (20) days.
Works better in winter.
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So wanna here 'bout art?

Well there is something about art, and something about looking at art, and something about money. Money should never ever... Ok well money shouldn't have even existed in the first place, but given that as of right now the world would quite simply stop functioning without money, money should keep its hand off art. In fact the big enemy is not money, but popularity. And provocation. Ok guys, we got the message, artist's crap is more valuable then gold, but that's been (notice how I used the present perfect, and not the past simple) half a century ago.

Last year a 10 meters high pussy hair was proudly displayed on the streets of Milan. WTF? The excuse by the artist's side was that it was a provocation to society. Are you making fun of us? It's not a bad taste problem, we are open enough to look at a vagina (pubes, actually) without being shocked. It's a you-are-dumb problem, and with you whoever accepted to display your work.

An exerpt from gruppogarage's manifesto:

10. Eroticism (understood in the classic meaning of the term) is the artistic representation of the human capacity to invest in his affective aspect


11. Erotic art has always been part of human creative production, representing in artistic form the possibility of the species to continue to exist

Eroticism is the highest level a human being is able to reach. High poetry is eroticism. Impressive architecture is eroticism. The finest photography is eroticism. Eroticism is art, and art is eroticism in all of its aspects.

Given that, for how art has developed in this last century, anything is potentially capable of being art, what makes a work of art a good work of art? It's not the esthetic. esthetic has nothing to do with art. It's not how pretty it is or how nice the colours are. It's about transmitting feelings and emotions. It doesn't matter if you like it or not, but how much it tells you.

Ja did you see that site?

izabelka yees

Ja and?

Ja what do you think?

izabelka I'm not sure...there is something weird and... unnatural in those pictures.... in most of them women look like his slaves...

izabelka but i have no idea about photography

And that's the point. It doesn't have to be a good feeling, nor you should be an expert to judge. The simple fact that some still images can communicate such a complex sensation says it all. You can actually be sure that a work is a great piece of art only when you hate it. The more you hate it the more the artist has stroke.

I would like to end this post talking about the condition of the artist to produce art, but since it's late and I've already done it I will desist.
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no'n' t'say...
fuckin dull day it was but blog of mine needed attention so that's the post for today.

enjoy.
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i know you are reading my blog. so COMMENT!!!
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The Church is not an enemy of sex

Teenagers and youngsters, that feel inside the strong call of love, must be freed by the prejudice that Christianity, with its norms and prohibitions, puts obstacles into the path to the joy of love. The love between man and woman can be utterly achieved only in the wedding.

These are the words of a man that has clearly never had sex in his whole life. How can you talk about love from your position? You don't have the sligtest idea of what lovemaking feels like.
He also said:

The Ten Commandments are not a series of no's. They are instead a big "Yes" to love and life.

Yeah right, like they don't all say "don't do it" right?

That guy is the pope by the way.
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do you think the devil would ever make its appearance to this world on such a date? classic...
it's not an elementary school boy, it's smart. smarter then most of you. it also enjoys cinicism and sarcasm (aka fun and irony). it would never ever come when everybody is expecting it. where's the fun of it? surprise is the essence of life...

beware
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survival camp is for pussy. it's never true survival at all, you have trained people to watch you over, plenty of tools for any need, showers and other facilities just meters away... and anyway even if you don't shower for a week or so you are living among other non-showering people and the fact that you stink and are dirty is likely to pass unnoticed.
now do this instead, live for a month with only icy-cold water, during exam session, in a city, going to parties and to lessons, staying with other fortunate hot-water-furnished people. come on, do it! now how is that for survival? it's nice a warm relaxing shower after 4 days in the woods, isn't it? and how about a nice cold shower after a sudden thunderstorm got you all wet and cold?
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to be an artist you must experience pain and lonliness

that's right. the point is, whenever you feel good, your energiesy are directed outwardly. your spirit recognizes good influences in external happenings and starts an exchange with the exterior world, so that it becomes impossible to direct and concentrate your creativity to a product of art. and if you have company, it's even worse. you are sacrifizing yourself, and giving and sharing your spirit with others. when you give (parto of) yourself away, once again you don't have enough energy left to create.

on the opposite, when you feel pain you tend to turn more and more into yourself, you accumulate energy inside, and then you have to find a way to expose it. it can be a 70-minute talk with your best friend, it can be a cry, it can be a work of art. but you must be alone to direct all of this energy where you aim to, and not to share it with the exterior.

this was the thought of a girl i had the fortune to meet, i do believe she got the point.
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club hopping last night and what the hell we had to run away from some girls. like, running. down the street. ok that was pretty mean but sometimes it's too much even for us.
clem and marin and i were in sopot (let's say it's the club district) and it was like "omg the italians are in town" where italian means super-cool guys from this super-cool country came to visit us!!

we got interwied from TVP 1 aka the first channel television in poland so we'll disturb the houses of the entire poland with our stupid comments on sopot in english and italian for the whole month of june and we will be understood by probably very few people but we'll be famous.
and i met the gf of an italian guy in london and she gave me a couple of tips on how to get in spatif. spatif is *the* artist club in sopot, and obviously they want to keep it like that and they deny the entrance to so many people, and obviously it has been my dream ever since i heard of it. so this week the attack to spatif is in plan.

then we went to this other club and they let us in without any problem and there were this two hot girls right behind us and they stopped them "sorry, you need membership card to enter". bullshit of course. i've seen so many times guys get stopped because of bad clothing mainly but i felt sorry for them but actually great because it's the first time they prefer guys to girls in a club.

back to that gf of that other italian, she's a creative and sensible mind like i've found only one so far here in poland. and maybe three or four in my whole life. yes i think it's time to start again, there MUST be some good out there, it's just a little hard to find it, but probably it's just about going to the right places. spatif will be the start.
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i tried, but i didn't get any luck. well i did get away from the erasmus circle, a blood-sucking group of people that found fun in the simple act of being the largest possible group and of getting drunk, with the fine excuse of finding this "cultural exchange" interesting.

so there i was with a couple of friends going out and getting to know polish people. which meant, though, try hard to get a girl in your bed. and what's the point in it? you give yourself up to get the girl's attention, you speak only with pick-up lines, you control your reactions and your words not on how you feel, but with the ultimate goal of doing her.

now, flirting is fun and entertaining, no doubt, but you can't live of it. where's the good old company of friends, that you can sit in a room all night talking and drinking good red wine and listening to some good healthy rock? where did that interesting people go?

once again, it's not fun anymore. except this time i have one month. let's start with a couple of phone calls...
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