November

.

.

November, in this country, is a time of remembrance and mourn. We even have a special kind of pastries for this month, which have the creepy name of ‘Saints’ bones’.

(Yes, I’m Evil Spambot, and I’m back ;) )

I never have considered November like such a gloomy month, ever. November is, for this humble Spambot, a month full of joy and work, friends and laughs, parties and birthdays –it’s my BD too- and, this year, November is the sixth month after the reader on the tube and I met (on the tube, of course). It will see, also, how my future is unfogged and how I am ready to take a couple of steps forward. More than ready. I know who I am.

Not everything was like a rainbow, no. My faithful computer died, and also this loyal laptop, who, fortunately, was resurrected by a special human being, the Guy of the Broken Computers’ Shop. However, despite all his vast knowledge, he was not able to keep Photoshopland in the map, so the image I’ve chosen to illustrate this post is not mine. I hope you like it, though. It has lots to do with the purpose of this post.

I have to leave. This is my life, lately. I can’t devote too much time to my favourite things. I miss you all, madly. I only hope all this sacrifice will be rewarded.

Yours, more than ever,

~ Evil Spambot ~

.

Deciti proppi, Stoutieu... Dirot nosesse? Sally veraxi (or the amazing world of the Verification Words)

.


Yes. There is a whole world of well known verification words. Furthermore, as the title of this post shows, we even could talk using only verification words. Who does not know that Bagginda is the backup internet name that would adopt murgs if she was not already murgs? Who can ignore Phydamit, that exquisite, old fashioned swear word, used by high society dames? Who can ignore Vowich, the (unbreakable) vow that each witch must know how to perform? Or Adexamon, the new and improved Digivolution…

We can’t minimize this new world within our reach. Nopes.

I even could make a dictionary. It would be the dream of my life. A dictionary made by myself. It would join its fellows Italian, English and French on my desk. It would be the boss.

Yours,

~ Evil Spambot ~

.

I was thinking of blogging (or the mysterious world of the verification words)

.



As expected, last evening we finished our HP marathon. After a wonderful and fun candlelit HP dinner (Pumpkin Soup, Jacket Potatoes, Roast Chicken and Custard Tart with Strawberry Ice Cream), we watched –holding our breaths until the end- we watched OotP.

We are ready. On Wednesday, this E.S. and its Cute Reader –C.R. from now- will be on the cinema, shoulder to shoulder, watching HBP. Maybe twice in a row.

We barely can wait.

Yours,

~ Evil Spambot ~

We did it

.

It was not a superficial, hurried decision, no. We talked about it, shyly in the beginning, during those wonderful days where we couldn't take our eyes off each other; more confidently later, when we discovered the pleasure of a good conversation and experienced the epiphany of the silence…

-insert here that abrupt scratch that is created by the needle being carelessly moved across the record-

ARGH! I think my inner circuits need a good boot up the backside! I’m a Spambot, for Pris’ gymnastic skills!

Anyway, I think you catch the idea. Since I met Corso, even before we had ever talked, I couldn’t stop thinking of it and, once we decided to share something more than a couple of tube rides at week, we often talked about it, in a conscious, responsible way. At the end, we decided doing it. It was written. It was our destiny. After all those doubts, pros and cons, after all those fun conversations, we decided to share a book.

We are reading Brisingr. Together. Last October, after reading a few pages and with great sorrow, I had to drop it. Later, due different circumstances, I couldn’t re-take the reading, so when we decided to read a book together, I asked Corso if he had read the last book of the Inheritance cycle. He didn’t. YAY!

Quoting to myself, I love shared readings, it makes great convos and lots of fun. And I’ve discovered it’s infinite more superb doing it together with Corso.

I’m loving each second of it.

Yours,

~ Evil Spambot ~

What really matters

.


A few days ago, after an exam, Corso and I went to do some shopping. I needed b&w and colour inkjet print cartridges and we thought the best would be buying them in our favourite –yes, my favourite is his favourite too- bookstore, which has a department for computer stuffs. I took some extra money, because I knew I couldn’t resist the temptation if a book flirted with me or if Northern Exposure last season was on the shelves.

Once the ink boxes were in our shopping bag, we made our way towards the first floor, where it’s the books area. But when we passed the DS games stand, I went crazy and put the Pokemon Platinum Edition in the shopping bag.

I had made my choice. No books, this time. No Northern Exposures. Just Pokemon. And then… Corso rolled eyes.

-insert here some typical suspense music-

See, after all this time, we had not talked yet about ‘certain’ interests I have. Sad, I know; Corso knows I am not precisely a struggling reader, so I shouldn’t have any problem about it. Maybe this was the moment, so I stopped dead in my tracks, grabbed his arm and said seriously, looking at his eyes:

’We have to talk about what really matters. Now. What do you think about Harry Potter? And about sparkling vampires? What do you think about Arwen and Aragorn? And…’

I made a pause, slapping the Pokemon Platinum box on his chest,

’…what do you think about Pokemon?’

Without losing that wonderful smile, he looked at me over his (new) glasses and told me, no trace of irony in his voice, but with passion and knowledge of what he was talking about, he told me that he loves Harry Potter; that Arwen and Aragorn’s love was true love; that vampires shouldn’t sparkle, and…

’…and I’m a Charmander guy, so… I’m sorry if you are a Bulbasaur girl…’

I AM a Bulbasaur Spambot, but… that was not a problem when I hugged him in front of the cashiers’ desk.

Yours,

~ Evil Spambot ~

.

Perfect Day

.

It was such a perfect day. Despite everything. Everything was in the cons’ list and, however, it was an unexpected perfect, awesome, wonderful day. Thanks to you.

It’s official, now.

Yours,

~ Evil Spambot ~


Blogger Note: If you have not clicked the video, please do. It’s an amazing love song, simple and beautiful. An amazing song about what friendship means. And, if you are curious about the performers, here you are the list (in order of appearance):

Lou Reed, Bono, Skye Edwards (from Morcheeba), David Bowie, Suzanne Vega, Elton John, Sir Andrew Davis, Boyzone, Lesley Garret, Lou Reed, Burning Spear, Bono, Sir Thomas Allen, Brodsky Quartet, Heather Small (from M People), Emmylou Harrys, Tammy Wynette, Shane MacGowan, Sheona White (tenor horn player), Dr. John, David Bowie, Robert Cray, Huey (from Fun Lovin’ Criminals), Ian Broudie (from the Lighting Seeds), Gabrielle, Dr. John, Evan Dando (from The Lemonheads), Emmylou Harris, Courtney Pine (soprano saxophone player), BBC Symphony Orchestra, Sir Andrew Davis, Bono, Brett Anderson (from Suede), Visual Ministry Choir, Joan Armatrading, Laurie Henderson, Heather Small, Tom Jones, Heather Small, Lou Reed.

.

I’ll be my own GM

.

This summer… Ouch, summer has not arrived yet and I already fear it. But today… today I’ve had a revelation. I have dice, lots of them: big and small standard cubical pipped dice; polyhedrical shaped dice with letters, numbers or figures on their faces; cubical dice that help you to decide what kind of food you will have for dinner or those wich will predict your future…

I’m gonna LRP this summer; I’m gonna LRP the summer.

No more plain, boring days. I’ll wake up and throw my dice and then… who knows?

I’ll be my own GameMaster. I’ll organize, arbitrate, and create my rules. I’ll moderate and storytell. I’ll describe the events and decide my decisions as a player. I’ll draw myself into the adventure, making it as much enjoyable as I can for me. I’ll keep the game balance and I won’t make myself omniscient and multipowered. I won’t allow myself falling into the God-Moding. No, Sir!

This summer will be DA BOMB!!!

Yours,

~ Evil Spambot ~

.