We go through other people’s garbage. And are not afraid to admit it. We even capture these special moments on camera and put the evidence out there. Evidence that there are some great treasures to be found, if only you have an eye for it (we didn’t see a thing of the majestic ocean because of our new fetish, but luckily it’s a shared obsession… mainly to be found among the ones living on a scholarship and paying 1.500 dollars for a shoebox apartment).
Those golfclubs were waiting for Tommaso to do his Tiger Woods act (of course I’m referring to the golfcourse-trick here… but he is Italian, so the rest of the acquired image won’t be a problem either, I suppose) And look at Mauro! He managed to discover a great piece of modern art under a drizzly blanket and as the grand finale: a fine dvd-player, appearing to be in new condition (with cord and plug!) Now that’s worth dragging around for 10 kilometres and facing steep rocks fearlessly and determined.
Myself, I would never refer to anyone or anything as ‘white trash’ (well, accept on Facebook, but there, people are talking about Hello Kitty Lovetoys and other disturbing things. Boundless.) Anyway, I found Britney, or did she find me? Now we are running together and she screams even louder than the cockatoos… but the hairdo is about the same. They help me speed up and appreciate my own bundle of straw more.
[I keep telling that 'colouring artist': I want Jennifer Aniston; not Bart Simpson. But they remain deaf to my pleads. Or actually just don't hear me during their brilliant post-modernist masterpieces of oratorical fireworks.]
Sorry dear reader, for this confusioning emotional interruption. Ready to make my point now: Thank you Britney. And Manly. For changing my life in a good way.
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