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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