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hysteria of us women

We have always accused us of hysteria in women, and the worst thing is that if you are in contact with colleagues for periods places / girlfriends / sisters / mothers end up convince you . Because sooner or later there always fights and not for trivial reasons.

Yesterday I saw a new advertisement on TV where he stressed the importance of a product for daily regularity ... by you know ... E basically gave the reasons for the delays between the change of intestinal bathroom.
this issue came to me entirely new, but not to the person with whom I was watching TV at that time. My brother had alleged that the girls feel embarrassed when they have to perform the natural functions of "evacuation of the ballast" in the next room if there is someone who can hear noise or odors that may be. Apart from the fact that this makes me feel unfeminine, that problem because I've never had ... I'm not there to say about what a joy it is to hear you explain to your younger brother as if he were explaining menstruation to the sister of 11 years ... Anyway, back to the bomb, then the girls have difficulty MISUSE. I
are of the view that vanity can be sacrificed in the name of health, then-to-hell in the toilet where I sit: The only prerequisite is hygiene. But if I had never had any doubt, it is clear that I do not text because the women, the real ones, also have this hassle.
But still, we needed was constipation! We did have a lot of reasons to be nervous already ours? It

male chauvinist who are not more! Think about it a moment.

Vabbhe, urge immediately with the problem of menstruation is like shooting on the Red Cross. Already premenstrual syndrome, which I say, hit "many" women (never known one without) makes it irresistible for a few days, in the sense that whoever is at our side hardly resist committing a rash act. But then, when they 'sti days of passion, comes the highlight of the issue. Passino towels that there is never when you need them, clothes that change size, the bags under his eyes as if they were asleep by 94, something is not right to bear ... PAIN! The stramaledetticheildiavoloseliporti menstrual ...
I defy anyone to be in a good mood when the normal function of your body will refuse to carry out their duties properly.
There is also a range of successful, which continues for a few days after "those days there" pain and nervousness, thanks (thanks for that ...?) Ovulation painful. Fortunate mortal! But thank you again

advertising because he did share the other half of the sky of another little problem typically female losses. I think they were the women who coined the term "pee in laughter ... You're there to laugh like crazy, bent double and with tears in their eyes and behold, suddenly stiffen you because you're leaving behind something that is not allowed to leave the area ... But if I miss some 'ride!?
And if that were all! Sneezing? Even a simple sneeze can suddenly make you switch on the side of the incontinence.

Doing a quick calculation on how many days per month of grace to flow through a Woman

(sindromePremestruale x 5) + (x menstruation 5) + (ovulazioneDolorosa x 3) = 13gg

of neurosis that we could add

(mild incontinence Xgiorni x) + (induced constipation continued and vanity)

Serve ... that throws the money? It is not clear on its own or is it strange to see women move through the streets without a Kalashnikov?

Males, try not to cause the next girl with dry air that come across in a corridor office. If it is not one of those days, there will still be irritated by the wrinkles of expression "work of hell" that delves betrayal furrows of old age. So who'll be assessing the anti-wrinkle cream Convenga buy now that the youth is leaving.

In summary, you should consult the word ... bites.

the blog Memories of Red Fish

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Riding on a train (second part)

Summary previous episode: John "The Bastard inside" is divided compartment with a nice and (too) friendly old man and a girl whose presence is considered irrelevant and unnecessary.


[...] "But you were in the plain?"

Eventually the stinking in me had been in touch ...
But I'm not bad, rather I have a defense system a little too sensitive: shoot easily at the slightest alert. When a virus sneaks into action in the body's antibodies, no? Behold, I have the white blood cells anti-annoyances, effective against boredom, crying hysterically, logorrhea and a wide range of assorted annoyances. The scientific name is
ignobilorum blood cells, these cells also despicable.

"Yes, we were flat. A beautiful piece of land. My father went out every morning ..."

Ah ... Click to see the old man had the antidote.
He responded to my request with complete composure ironic and ill-concealed enthusiasm. Perhaps the most obvious thing to ask in those cases was just the condition of the soil. I never thought of.
I had it seemed very impressed. Certainly I did not lose his train of thought. Indeed, the attention of the audience encouraged him.

The compelling story of his life went on without pause and without breaks, throw it away, look around for an escape. Let's see ... The bathroom? No, I do not do too is the tetanus shot. I say that I'm going to smoke! No. .. if not, to stay out as long as possible is the time I take the habit.

The girl meanwhile was about his business, seemingly oblivious to the tragedy that was taking place, and for sure you would not find help. They should also condemn this as a failure to rescue.

logorrhoea's attack was a blast now, I caught only a few words, Mom, potatoes, hunger, ehhh my friend!, Field plowing, mules ... Wavered.

"But vegetation had been spontaneous? "

ZAC! My counterattack with their vile blood MiNC --- born.

" Yes, but we are working hard! My dear, it was not like now that the houses are made of concrete! We worked in the fields and plowing and my father loved my mother. A beautiful couple. Sa such as bricks that were once ... "

Oh my god I could not believe! ATTACK OF CELL Despicable!
was a full-scale attack, with its inconsistencies and hypnosis of bastards'
party ... I take the phone in his hand and having to pretend to send an important message: a question of life or death. But he keeps talking pitiful.
Send a text message to my sister

'm on the train to visit Mauritius. There is an old man like Grandpa Simpson is, is telling me everything. I started to interrupt work with idiots, like: "But you were in the plain?" Or "But the vegetation was already
spontaneous?" and I answered as if they were asked questions related to do. Then
resumes. I have to ask if butter buffalo was already pasteurized
with butter.

Beep, beep. My sister replied

Tell him that when we lived in Rome we had a cow in an apartment but he suffered too much and we had to suppress it.

He he he, see if the cells are not genetically ignobilorum! But the old man knew a lot. He felt another excerpt of his monologue: "... but the house was stone, eh? Cement comelefannoadessonononocaroleieeeehssì Mica, mica no, masonry and away you go ride! Cement cost and my father was in 1884 ..."

"Oh yes, then the outdoor Riggiola was adopted much later!"
ZAC, ZAC, ZAC, touche! New life-blood flowed in my veins. The
Riggiola! But how came to mind 'ste hunted? Well, maybe my mother is right, not to rest more between shifts and the other work I had burned some neuron.

'E' that once things were otherwise, were not so ... When I was a kid and my father, who was in 1884, worked in the fields ... "
" Oh, how true, "I interrupted" knows, for example, where I work, everything changed. A colleague of mine who worked with me ... Look, I talk ... oh yes! I talk as much as ... two ... m. .. ila ... four! Two thousand and four! The beauty of ... THREE years ago! "I had said with a cheeky ease, extending beyond the year of his 365 sacred days, as if the 1884 and 2007 the distance of a handful of mesi.Quando the talkative gentleman got off the train, I was now satisfied. I smiled slyly as an oooommmmm resonated within me, my I filled a hot calm of cannabis.

"So many good things and good-bye!" Only if you do not have no choice, I thought.
While I was getting to my friends at the station of Capaccio, I took mental note of your return of the gentle old man. Luckily I did have a ticket for the train before.

(end)

Based on a true story

Thanks John, the old man and the Italian railways

blog by Memories of Red Fish

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Riding on a train (first part)

few days ago I received a sms from my brother in the mood for one of his jokes.
It was on a train to visit some friends and traveling companions had as a quiet girl and a talkative old man.
If they were characters in a book by Nick Hornby, I think the story would be more or less like this:

It's not that I had much choice, the trains from Naples are so crowded that one of the seats are also covered portions of the carpet corridoio.Quindi did not picky when I found the place empty. A quick examination to check the absence of cigarette butts on the seat (as I am sure bothered to look. There were. Sure.) And essential requirements are fulfilled. I sat down.

"Hello ... Hello ..." I said politely to the beautiful maiden in the next place and the old man in the face with a hint.

The girl was not bad, really pretty. And I tried the approach from the base: "It 's free place, no?" "Yes yes" and smiled. But he did not go well ... The I scared? Bho.
sketched the conversation. He smiled. "Yes .. I not understand. Scussa ." It was not a
Timidone and even the awe I had put my fascination with animal, or maybe, who knows, but what prevented a flowing conversation was the language barrier.
"I'm Greek."

except for "hello, hello and spaghetti for his Italian and Kalimera and kalisera ... kali-or something, I forget ... and also mussaca zazzichi and a little footage for an aspiring cook, pick, cultural barriers prevented the socializing.

And even then I liked ...
Yeah.

The old man who until then had not spoken, he was fascinated hearing the nationality of the girl.
was one of those old men who seem embalmed in his seat, apparently harmless, whose silence is not a symptom of inner peace, rather than military strategy: studying the enemy to know which side to attack.
fact taken the ball and started sciorinare his historical knowledge: "So is Greek! Eh, that beautiful Greece ... Ancient Greece! The mythology, history ... Know for sure the battle of Thermopylae. I learned at the school, long ago '... The story of Odysseus, Achilles and the Trojan ...".

The girl's face was a big question mark and should also have noticed the speaker because he stopped: "He has this Trojan?"
" Sousse. I not understand. No speak Italian "
" Yes, but Troy ... "but she kept shaking her head opens his eyes, which had reached the size of two small frying pan.
At that point the conversation / monologue took a fold more than grotesque. If someone had passed in front of the compartment at that time would have been disgusted a slobbering old man who looked a nice young man saying "Troy ... Troy ... BITCH! "Screaming as if the language barrier could break the intensity of the sound. Meanwhile she continued to deny his head and saw that it was clearly uncomfortable.
And if he understood the inconvenience that could be construed between the city of Troy and the oldest profession in the world, I doubt it was only uncomfortable.

"Homer ... Odyssey ... The city was destroyed ... "I tried rescuing the damsel in distress.
"Ah ... Tria, "and we who have said so far?

now smiling. He understood. A fraction of a second and was already busy in another. He would not leave blank spaces to be identified sympathetic ladies. You see that you think you've already given.

I then chose the landscape as wallpaper. And while that flowed ears logs off, a drowsy numbness attacked me and the images become associated with mental ... The green ... The campaign ... A little 'peace ... Vacation ... Finally a few days off after rounds and rounds on days of intense headaches and incazzature.
mean, it was a tedious work well would understand our colleagues' commitment to youth issues and add new journals ... But boredom is not covered in the dictionary of law enforcement. Just listen to the complainants to have constant stimuli. Yeah, because people ... no, I say, people! Let's talk! We sent her the country, and as no! Next to the desk I should put the incinerator imbeciles: all arrangements would be day and night.
If I take a few days off at risk of liquefaction cerebrale.Un bit of chatter with friends and as a therapy for binge eating healthy e. ..

"She often does this mean?" About
c --- or is it?? "... Excuse me?"

I had felt fine but also hoped that the other person, always in front of the old sedutomi, to understand the inappropriateness his speech, perhaps before I completely got out of my relaxing / useless / obvious / stupid ideas.
"Ah, no. No, I'm going to see some friends"
And before I could turn the gaze back to the window: "Oh this world: but where are we heading?"

FOR heaven's sake, NOOOOO! Something more original just was not there to say? It was good the ozone hole! I want the incinerator! Now! Subitooooo!
a dangerous moment for my survival instinct was to take ilsopravvento: the tip of the tongue was clinging precariously to a "I want to get to the station after Capaccio Battipaglia. Seriously, I go down there."
But I can not even surprised to be so bastard, and then stretched by hanging a knowing smile and the best cheeks ballonzolai his head back and forth as if I was missing the cervical articulation. Without saying a word nodded sympathetically. Eeeeeh already.

I was hoping that my silence discourage him. Because I was silent, it is true, but I had written in his face "DANGER. Not ca-are out of the jar." red lampeggiante.Ma accounts had made them very badly. If there is one thing that older people are so fond of is someone who will listen. Silence is golden. For them.

"You know, once mica there were all these things ... I train for example. That is, trains were not so, with the coaches and the posts and everything so ... "Sure
. There must have been to the pedals. smile. I nod.

" Uh ... "replied the captivating storyteller," the time goes ... "
Ah, flalalai. freschino Fa today. If I say I do not always smile ... he says.

And then things fell hopelessly. And I do not know how I noticed that he spoke of his old house during the war, "when there was hunger but it was better (ah?) and without realizing it, before you make contact shot brain-language:

" but I was flat? "

(end of part one)

the blog Memories of Red Fish

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rain a fall ...

"... but he is doing?" He said an old song. Debate
which seem current, but because two drops of rain paralyzed the traffic in Rome? Ok, there were always those 2 drops of recent days, but it is not clear the same: What did the rain is wrong?

The city is acid rain; true.
corrodes monuments; true. How many noses hubs marble heroes you see in the middle? The tourists will think of us as a city of vandals (and in some ways it's true: we are by acid rain).
Nor is it too good for plants: a drink, and, if in another life have not killed anyone, Glorious God grants them to dry quickly. Again true.
But perhaps have even eats his ankles? It dried my hair? Sour minds? ... Yes, this is ... But the justification for blocking traffic, where are you?

When I was a kid and I heard on TV that the rain had stopped traffic, I imagined Trinita dei Monti is suddenly a cascade of mud, the poor tourists surprised by the hurricane swept away and dragged right into the Tiber, the streets that would normally go for go to school flooded, flooded, cleared by the flood.
... The fact is that the only thing good could come of all this, or skip classes for a day, it never happens: with boots transparent umbrella with rain and doodles, I went to my mother by the hand 38barrato stop, the bus (very slowly, enough to make me late for the teacher cazziatone) reach Viale Regina Margherita and I came away unscathed by the Ursulines Nomentana ...
And the hurricane that had happened? I was hoping not to always be there when I arrived, I hoped one day that this water becomes an ocean disaster, the school raised from the ground up on the news and they talked about a new elementary school of the Ursulines in Uganda or Botswana (to quote my opponents Trivial to ) ...
But no! That never miss it, there was! So what will
was never 'if no rain is swept away even a poor defenseless school?!

Over time I began to realize that something was wrong. The equation "rain = traffic chaos" was accepted by all as a corollary, as an incurable plague humanity. "It's raining, damn it" "Oh yes, there will be a mess on the streets." And in fact, there was continued but, musing on the seat of the bus, not to understand why.

No, I do not send comments of long and patient explanations, there are now arrived.
The problem of rain is intrinsic to its nature, is that it's wet ... and people are terrified of getting wet! Poor water
cursed and laughed! Innocent, pure (So \u200b\u200bto speak) fresh rain, the muse of poets and country life!

Ah, Roman, fear not! I am here to rejuvenate your spirits.
I extend a heartfelt appeal to you, dear compatriots!
The rains washed the toes protruding from the feminine footwear, laboriously smoothed the tangled curly hair (no no, I was reminded why we fight ...), I also recall the picnic, moisten the edges of his trousers MA, dear all, not fracicano brains! Not what your problem!
If you have a useful umbrella with you, you can rotate freely around the city using public transportation, because pulling out of the garage your car and throw in the fifth mix of lemmings lined up on the freeway?
Maybe, oh you kind of drivers who howl mortacci the one who follows the row without wriggling "thus cutting the road" to your risky overtaking, believe that leaving the house on 4 wheels better your day. Instead, how many and how many miles in a row and minutes of delay, along with gallons of acid gastric juice?
If you are not marble, Roman dear, you have no permanent damage from the rain in Rome.

the blog Memories of Red Fish

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Odor of humanity

I love that joke that goes "There is liable to hear all going around with his ears."
But walking the nose is not a trivial matter.


the morning train F1 Fiumicino-Orte azzeppato of 07:59 was more with people than usual. I believe that everyone in his way should be realistic and understand that a wide corridor up to a pair of hips and a half can not be populated by more than 2 people in sardine (standard size of course: I side with someone and I'm still uncomfortable). In addition to the physical laws of the impenetrability of bodies where there is a body there can not be another law is not respected in the trains where the exception proves the rule.
Physics aside, however, it is true that we all go to work and all try not to be late, so when we meet on the docks as many as the number of quarter summoned by Garibaldi, you all a deep breath and you put your soul in peace trip soon.


Then stay in slices is not. The worst is having to sniff the various human odors that temperatures exacerbate the public transport network profusely.
If one is dressed like a moron, look away, if chatting to crap in your ears you thinking outside your own business, but what remedy the odor "unpleasant"? The scented handkerchiefs? The salts? Work of fantasy to imagine that the scent is a fragrant onion soup?

... Yes, at your leisure. Look here finiate to vomit ...

Finished? I said, that solution is it? I fear nothing.
About public transport I have heard only the TV during the strike, which clearly can not understand me. But subscribed Metrebus like me can not help but be supportive ...


The smell of sweat is not the only unpleasant. In the morning, thanking God, the above mentioned problem is not as noticeable during the hottest hours of the day, after a copious sweat from -stress and anti-boss nerves very-bastard-client .
the morning, on the contrary, girls and ladies improfumate will parade under the nose, and some every step is like a scream in my ear: I am referring to the ritual of morning ablutions scented female. Sometimes, even in their being unhealthy, it's fragrance discreet: white musk for example, or other mixtures of species with exotic names such as ocean blue, grass green, passion cucumbers and so on.

But the vanilla ... Oddi THE VANILLA!! Mica
I do not like it? I have it myself and I find it a pleasant smell, although I prefer it on a cake. But in my opinion should give a license for the use of vanilla scents. Ranks it among the weapons, so would need at least a handbook. Yeah I guess the title of the book: "Handbook aware of vanilla. The sweet kills."


And you smell mica strangers then! We are based in the nose and makes you even come from hunger croissant distracting from the purpose of diet, follows you to work, when it collapses screaming for cramps at 11.30 am begging a bite of plum cake .

Vanilla is universally recognized as a sensual fragrance, full of promise ... But it is unclear if the men so they get sick (the verb "to enchant, not sick, eh?) Or if we take them by the throat ...

the blog Memories of Red Fish