The thoughts & opinions of Sassarella, the Queen of Sass as she cavorts in 's Gravenhage & beyond. Brought to you by CES's (Chief Executive Slaves) of Big Skanky Ho Inc.
This Saturday, I went to a barbecue with a bunch of Italians. I don't know quite what I was expecting, but the food definitely kicked ass, and around 10:30pm, after everyone had stuffed themselves to maximum capacity, they started singing. Eventually, a guitar came out. Next thing, it was a full-on Italian singalong.
It's not every Saturday night where I'm serenaded by a Fulvio, an Antonio, a Marcello, two Paolos, and a Massimiliano. But, you know, maybe it should be.
Today, since we're speaking of music, I rode my bike to work listening to my new Lee Perry CD. It might not have been my best idea ever since I found myself unable to pedal faster than a snail's pace, and I kept thinking about how my bike ride would be improved if I could smoke some pot.
There's a picture. Me, riding my bike to work, with a great big spliff. Yeah, maybe not.
In other news, I hear Lorenzo's in town. Maybe he can sing a few osteria songs for me too.
