I tend to ramble in superlatives when I’m on stage, so more often than not, when I mention what happened to me the minute I graduated from my Masters in Biotechnology back in 2007, my non-Italian friends raise the interrogative eyebrow of disbelief. I still wonder what part of this centuries long tradition is the most unbelievable one. That your closest family is gleaming with pride while posing for pictures one second, and turning into a bunch of sadists the very next one? Or is it being dragged down the staircase by your best friends, who make sure that your butt hits every single stair properly as it brings good luck? Perhaps it is being stripped down to my underwear, right in front of an
Dear Friend, It feels like playing piano with mute pedal stuck and permanently pressed down. If feels like driving with a hand break, back in those days when we had the good ole manual hand breaks instead of a damn button - can't drive up the hill anymore with those shitty new "smart" cars when your wheels are slipping on the finest Italian cobblestone - no chance to press the gas pedal and gradually release the hand break until the wheels gain some grip. Fuck it. It feels like smoking 5 packs of cigarettes a day and then enjoying sushi. I have never lit a cigarette in my entire life, but I kind of picture the numbing effect Miss Nicotine could have on your taste buds. I've kissed enough smo
