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Gaslight Anthem and shoot like a stupid gesture of defiance thrown in his face the day.

returned yesterday from Oslo. there is no one in Oslo, maybe does not exist. but they have particular tastes, in music. I was in a club where they danced the big boys tattooed rockabilly with the shiny shoes and white socks.

girls are all beautiful. but nobody knows where they are. except in the evening when the club said - which is called Mono - is filled with Viking dressed as Paris of the fifties.

the streets have names that always end up 'gata'. there is also a named Torga parallel to Storgata . I swear. sometimes seems to be in Rome. at every intersection of streets, exactly axiomatic, a Deli De Luca faces a 7-eleven. in third place following the Narvesen. If you split the number of Deli De Luca 7-eleven and the number of Narvesen in a given block, the result is 3.14.

one evening, following the lead, we went to eat at a restaurant frequented by the working class. the customers all had long hair, were ruddy and strong drink. women, too. at one point, a man named Bjorn made his entrance with a guitar, he boarded a small stage in back of the room and stuck to sing traditional American folk pieces. classics, such as Me and Bobby McGee . everyone danced and were happy.
in museums, however, the captions are not translated into Norwegian almost never.

dominant ethnic youth is undoubtedly represented by metalheads. their sophisticated gadgets overlooks the street from several music stores, strategically located in deprived young people. right next to Deli De Luca, exactly. but I do not mind, because when I was little I learned that the metalheads are just looking ammore.
Norway is the country dell'ammore.

Desio, however, is the land of the furniture, CL and things you'd like to do and not do, that you should first learn to drive.