taintedside @ 2004-03-24T00: 37:00
Avete presente quelle giornate in cui uno si stanca, no? Si stanca per il lavoro che ha fatto, esce dal lavoro alle 23.30 con una bella Marlboro in bocca, si siede in macchina, la accende, si toglie la giacca, la appende dietro, nel frattempo apre il finestrino e accende la radio. Quelle serate in cui uno è stanco perché, cazzo, s'è spaccato il culo in 4 per giaponesi, coreani, italiani, messicani, americani, turchi, tedeschi (che sono peggio dei turchi), quelle sere in cui uno è stanco e sa che nulla si fermerà fino a venerdì sera alle 23.30 quando potrà consider closed a fucking work week of 6 days (yes, I started Sunday), those nights when one is tired but satisfied slut whore? Here I started with a smile today and I ended up with a smile. The work is hard ... the rest which is not (perhaps the postal employee)? I said, the work is hard but I like it. Shit I never imagined could work so gratifying. It 's strange to hear it (especially writing) from me, but when I get up at 5 am (as long as the night before he went to bed at a decent time and not the one) I like what I do. I stand up and say "Oh shit ..." Then I wear the robe, I'm going to shower, eat, put myself in a suit, I choose the tie of the day, do a quick pasata to shoes, I look at the news of the 5 and 45, and I'm happy. I am happy because I'm going to do something that I like and 'fuck off to all those who do not believe it, but that fucking work I can do really well! Ok,, pass me the self-celebratory moment ... tomorrow my dear (I assume that very few laws now and even less comments), and good night every now and then please get in touch, ok?
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