Hello, my name is Andrea Martucci.
Hi! Are Martucci Andrea ...
Hello, I'm Andrea! Yes, Martucci, that of research. Yes
It shit! Fake like a 7 euro banknote.
Which side you turned, looked more like a clumsy way of bullshitting with ease. What, you say.
But my call to the cemetery in Piacenza!
"Hello, how may I help you?"
Damn, was responding to a voice of good kid friendly and polite. If you understand what I mean, that voice was not exactly my main source of blessed truffaldinaggine, at a time like that. An old nasty, that yes, with one foot in the grave (appropriate, considering the effort), and transform research in austerity University Professor Martucci was a wedding invitation.
But I had to deal with that disarming scout all anxious to help me out. Well, after all who was I to disappoint?
"I wanted some information about a certain chapel ..."
"What is your degree of relationship?"
"Uh. Uh." I whispered, trying to find a credible and sustainable.
"No degree of relationship" I sighed, wandering and pointless fake.
"I am a student and am trying to pursue a research thesis on Ernesto Maria Pasquali, and I was wondering if you could somehow validate some information on him. Date of birth and other details ... "
" Unfortunately I could not help it - I beg you, I thought, at least give me the aura of you who mock me thick disintegrates! - I could not help but since this is a university research ... I will throw an exception. "
Maybe it was there smiling benevolently, the caller. clear to me was a matter of divine intervention, and the golden tumbler switchboard began an extensive list of" born- died "for a half-dozen relatives. The tree was growing bud. Genealogy. In an instant my curiosity stubborn erased the shame of a decade of pots of rosemary bought mercilessly and left to dry in the sun. But that was all.
The list confirmed and increased the amount of family information, but for now, leaving intact the details useful for further research. Details that were looking for? A name and a surname of an heir.
I asked and I had a partial response: yes, no, I said the guy, and added the name of a town in Lombardy. If there was hope in the world to get answers to my questions, was that person that everything depended. "Somebody Up There was distracted, I thought. (continued)
Hi! Are Martucci Andrea ...
Hello, I'm Andrea! Yes, Martucci, that of research. Yes
It shit! Fake like a 7 euro banknote.
Which side you turned, looked more like a clumsy way of bullshitting with ease. What, you say.
But my call to the cemetery in Piacenza!
"Hello, how may I help you?"
Damn, was responding to a voice of good kid friendly and polite. If you understand what I mean, that voice was not exactly my main source of blessed truffaldinaggine, at a time like that. An old nasty, that yes, with one foot in the grave (appropriate, considering the effort), and transform research in austerity University Professor Martucci was a wedding invitation.
But I had to deal with that disarming scout all anxious to help me out. Well, after all who was I to disappoint?
"I wanted some information about a certain chapel ..."
"What is your degree of relationship?"
"Uh. Uh." I whispered, trying to find a credible and sustainable.
"No degree of relationship" I sighed, wandering and pointless fake.
"I am a student and am trying to pursue a research thesis on Ernesto Maria Pasquali, and I was wondering if you could somehow validate some information on him. Date of birth and other details ... "
" Unfortunately I could not help it - I beg you, I thought, at least give me the aura of you who mock me thick disintegrates! - I could not help but since this is a university research ... I will throw an exception. "
Maybe it was there smiling benevolently, the caller. clear to me was a matter of divine intervention, and the golden tumbler switchboard began an extensive list of" born- died "for a half-dozen relatives. The tree was growing bud. Genealogy. In an instant my curiosity stubborn erased the shame of a decade of pots of rosemary bought mercilessly and left to dry in the sun. But that was all.
The list confirmed and increased the amount of family information, but for now, leaving intact the details useful for further research. Details that were looking for? A name and a surname of an heir.
I asked and I had a partial response: yes, no, I said the guy, and added the name of a town in Lombardy. If there was hope in the world to get answers to my questions, was that person that everything depended. "Somebody Up There was distracted, I thought. (continued)
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