Monster & Co 
Monster & Co are two girls.
Monster & Co is a good idea. Monster & Co
ask all those who remember the dream that made the night to put pen to paper and send it to them. Monster & Co
If the riterraqnno valid (good will) would be appreciated.
also publish daydreams?
anyone still makes them? I do not know. Take a look the same.
Forgive them father they know not what they do. 
There are things that are alive, despite not having a heart and a brain.
There are things that, although they can not speak, are be able to make us the creeps. There is a type of plastic, tin, glass fiber, a type of soft buttons that atones only to watch them become filled with clouds so many memories. Among these, the picture above is one of those.
Commodore 64, which wired Italy ranks as one of the twenty-five computers have changed the history of computing.
liars, hypocrites, unjust, the Commodore 64 has changed the afternoon, evening and night of billions of big babies and teenagers, and rewriting and to stay moist peat in paradise full of color and laughter. Unforgettable
being slow to load games, days when compared to the immediacy of today. Definitely memorable graphics of each square thing, the human characters, animals, buildings, bullets, everything was incredibly square, sliced \u200b\u200bhard but well-defined (oh please).
allow time to take a shower before I found out like the graphics of the next level, unimportant, you could mark the package directly to a precise timer intervals cassette recorder of the games, so if you wanted to play only one in the middle tape could safely skip the rest.
"Press to start tape play or" pure poetry.
It 's true, you could not challenge the Japanese nerd on the other side of the globe, but the games did not cost 70 Euro and in each box there were at least fifteen (all bad of course, but so is playing only "Sensible Soccer, or better, football manager."
It occupied almost the entire kitchen table, the room, your room, the floor became the engine room of the Matrix, the eyes were lost in the tangled web of wires scattered everywhere, and twelve thousand, of course, once a day someone will stumble by all fall from the table. We speak
supply? A cube from the square that features two hours after it became a fireball, it was a small stove in winter, summer was far better to stay there.
And the stripes on my TV? As if television had been tangled up at a rave. Psychedelic flashed on the screen, without order or sense, kidnapped, and the risk that you could stand and watch the tape go ahead and you do not stop at the right time, at the risk of having to start again, and was not a thing of two minuti.Nà.
was the time of giant joystick, a stick more than anything else. From your room and volavi somewhere for at least four or five hours.
Thinking today at mini console and all those who, now young, lose diopters there before, and how the physical increasingly tends to shrink, to disappear, as if annoyed, is a lot of nostalgia.
not know what they lose.
Numbers 1 Cake
I think it's time to denounce it. The possibility exists that such experiences are now the prerogative common and, for that reason, pass entirely unnoticed. Basta.
names because we do not is not the case, the experience is the same in each of the clubs of the capital.
little change whether Christmas, Carnival, Easter Friday or municipality may change the position of its parts, but the result remains the same.
early evening, we are out, lined up, waiting for a gorilla with the headset to decide, based on the collar of his shirt, when the rope and let us go our way in the world of wonders.
Looks, looks, winks and the classic "by now, we are part."
Around the background is the same as always: people thronged, an array of shirts, well-kept eyebrows, lipsticks, handbags that seem more in size, the condom of the i-Phone with whom, the most cool, call their friend who is part of the organization (and which will admit them to first, there were even the seats).
To make the situation worse folklore is the day of the year and, in particular, the anniversary, we are at the gates of the carnival. Result? People in the mask, between the lines, boys and girls something of imitators in bunny version (the hottest go even to the commonest street clothes inspired by profits on the set porn: nurse, policewoman).
Once inside, leaving his coat in the cloakroom for the modest sum of 5 € (crutches are expensive even at Ikea today) all start to a very attractive. To animate the evening we think the voice of local vocalist, who, without censorship and self says what's on your mind. Maybe drunk, but no, exalts the hearts of all, while in case a pump strong sound child of the nineties, well adapted and made "modern" by the bass vibrate the glasses of sparkling wine that almost all in their hands, smiling .
Vocalist know the sound, he studied at home, knows when to intervene and when to send its contribution in orbit all. The format is as follows and is repeated every five minutes:
1 - The evening numbers 1
2-Night Rome is all about
3-I want to see all the arms in the air. On the one hand numbers
Then move on to the psychological threat
3b-Who does not raise your hands do not get to try the way tomorrow
quotations
4-Alberto Sordi he said, because we are us, and you're not a fucking
Attempt the road disbelief
5-Where are we? But where we are! It's not Ibiza
6-E go and go and go (this usually accompanies the name of the club by pulling up the last letter to scream)
Citation and glorification of the DJ on duty 7-
For us, in Rome, only best for you, the numbers 1 (following name of art of the DJ)
People crowded, some, in the throes of an erotic spasm just end up hitting the first wall or sink into a sofa in faux leather, turning the arms in many tentacles curious.
the middle of the track are created concentric mounds, usually the girls are in the center, so that children can draw an insurmountable barrier to them and making clear what all the others.
friends watching, mumbled a couple of ears of other crap and laugh (but this is also as beautiful as you want).
The best part are almost always the cocks, the boys from Crestino Ingell, T-shirts and tight muscles giants. Some of them, try the way screwed down shirt, fashionable almost coma the beautiful new entry, the vest and scoppoletta.
The rooster is the perfect center of the runway and the chest well strictly with a view looking seductive moves to tighten his arms like crazy, almost like a duck flapping its wings, to make clear that the gap between the chest and right the left is considerable. "But thou hast er Grand Canyon sott'a shirt?" (Or anything like that).
The bar counter: young people who work at the speed of light and that, despite the frenzy, I can smile and shake the bottles to as jugglers, your gin and tonic at the end will look like an egg. The problem is to arrive at the bar. First, you have to pay ten to fifteen euro, the gain details will be 300% but let's pretend we do not know (probably would be the appropriate way to get people to stop drinking, so do not plant the trees), then you have to fight between the shoulders of a hundred people, get bruised feet until do not get bruises or better, as long as your shoes do not change color, and put up at least once a girl asking you to pass on her friend's drink coupon of five rows behind you, you smile, because you are passing gnaws forward, but never mind, you do it.
last drink. Three quarters of the ice, a drop of gin, lemon, tonic water.
Ah, we really wanted.
The best scenes come after three o'clock, when some have raised the elbow, in most cases the effect of "equal education shirt is nice that vanished, and then a couple of punches almost always escape us. You can tell when you see a couple of gorillas splashing into a corner of the ballroom, all ends in a second, and you end up surprised when you learn that the mess was created because someone has put the ' eye over the wall created by the friends of a girl. In fact she was giving the signal of availability, but for the defenders of the castle that was unbearable.
Also after the three best dancers come out, meet where there is more space and throw in little steps of the past. Seem to see people suffering epilepsy, move jerkily moving body and arms in seemingly random directions, but just follow a couple of minutes to understand that they are perfectly aligned with the music and their movements have a beginning and an end. They, the new tangheros. Figure
recent but not new is the photographer. He goes, you take a good picture and you find yourself in a magazine the "pussy" in the city, or on one of those nights where everybody knows Blog and smiles are all fake as the three euro coin.
He works alone at the beginning, once climbed the general level of alcohol, is continuously tortured, his shoulder is the strongest reminder that there is.
Of these there are those who are firm and is looking and thinks that tomorrow will write this. Usually, but not write, you feel slightly out of place, trying to adapt, imagining scenarios logistically and musically closer to her wishes. The voice of his thoughts quarrels with that of the vocalist that continues to echo on and on.
finally quit, fired, and go home. Ears that booed and certain to be in bed number one, number one in the house because it comes from a night of numbers.
