when I was little - but only in height, width because I already settled on the double square, such as double beds - the epidemic broke out of the drugged sweets.
the epidemic of drugged candies sold, if possible, on street corners and expressly outside the elementary schools. no kindergartens, middle or high school or the only primary school.
seems that someone had decided that the junkies had taken control of the confectionery market in order to invest in children and spend unimaginable amounts of its assets in the manufacture of well-chosen sciusciu filled with illegal substances.
indeed who did not know even then that the heroin sailing gold and quell'accattonare annoying that distinguishes them is really just an excuse to dispose of far from the watchful eyes of their loved ones.
when I was little history of the drugged sweets fell on the rest of my family as news of radiolondra during the war.
I never know who has put her around, but since then I have marked my life.
overnight mom and aunt pina instructed me, the little sisters and cousins \u200b\u200bnot to accept candy from the hands of unknown penalty poisoning doping substance, and of course death.
truth in the speech was not so linear, there was an assumption on the fact that the world was no longer the than once and we were spoiled for hyper children who never, when they were small, would have dreamed of eating sweets. them only the quince, which is seasoned with apple jam.
La. jam. Seasoned. Di. Apple.
to us instead of lego fructose liked bigbabol, bambinacci that we were not more vicious, and we were always there to eat in peace, my sister even more than achieving together so primacy the most powerful jaw of the west and a couple of extra corporeal experiences were caused by various asphyxiated intensity. this even when swallowed together with the flour bigbabol, but maybe part of chapter-I-last-minute talk about it again.
here: overnight, turning this item in each of our beloved pink cakes could be drugs, the same drugs that would eventually lead to addiction and death within a very short time and without us even knew of the children have become toxic.
even if in fact we had seen something curious drug already knew, namely that if ever we had decided we would take it immediately colored violet and all the street because we have recognized that in the meantime passed the air would spread the music of agonizing public service announcements on AIDS. quite the same eh and we all would have held up and deviating as we walked.
we do not like the music and did not like to think that we could mutate into unhappy people by the color of a bruise.
then just decide not to take drugs and they all lived happily ever thought we, working smarter and a little 'raised on the teaching of public service announcements.
but when your mother has never made a joint in his life despite being raised in the seventies, you are to say you're stuffing the sciusciu with drugs without even warn then everything changes because you can not do anything.
fear change.
terror becomes the friendly face of the tobacconist's elder brother or some friend of tea and you no longer know who to trust and who not to stop buying the cocacoline rubbery or elah Galatine liquorice or chocolate, only you must do it secretly, and look very well before putting them in the mouth; clear that the drug has a different color.
this story of the drugged sweets is a history of mistrust, that's what it is.
eighties between one thing and another over to lose the sense of elegance and discretion we have a little 'lost all innocence.
philanthropy drug dealers. Who would have ever expected all this desire to squander their fortunes with us kids, but apparently they did was good and who are watching their backs.
I do not have never forgotten this fact that behind every sciusciu can be hidden in a mou scoundrel.
spent in front of the tobacconist's foaming at the mouth bramante candy and all that I obtained was the administration of a proverb: "Trust is good not to trust is better." interval to see if the old stoned behind the counter was not then really a courier of the Medellin cartel.
not in any way that these experiences have affected my appetite which in recent times is out of control, however, did not leave me indifferent.
in fact I even tried to remove them - together unlikely to permanent and padded shoulders of my mother - but when I did I get into trouble.
to reply with the proverb parental another way to say the least among us who prefers younger I would say that it I learned that "when the devil caresses you want the soul" and that the seduction of memelle is very dangerous, even when it does not cover death by overdose.
actually drop me a packet of candies under the nose and I'll be yours forever, especially if in addition to peddle junk food under the table you purchase books and DVDs on the ants of science fiction.
fact if you, man guilty of making me spend two days sad and anxious, I will present brandishing a bag of flavored invitantissimi sciusciu E111 or E113, megatreccia not a padded or haribo a bucket of Haagen Dazs caramelandnuts that oozes from this soft, buttery board - yes, even the cartoon is buttery - which wraps tornotorno as I do not want to fall kidnapped at your feet?
you, man I hated until two minutes before the sucrose and the preservative will be made manifest in our hands, know that you are no less subversive of the establishment I pedophile who inhabited the nightmares of my mother.
because, let's face it, as it resists a dealer with an excellent command of Italian sweets?
even that is dangerous and hypoglycemic damage.
other than diabetes, here you run other risks.
here we run the risk of becoming addicted and even grateful.
dependent on sweetness.
nothing but nose wooden heart of tin. other than the land of donkeys. here wick he will throw us into the sea with all the clothes because of a pack of gummy candies to Coke and if a relative takes a chance again and hunt waistcoat and trousers with leggings and do grilloparlante of this hell I'll show him the whale's belly.
told him to turn his face from strangers who pay formal and memelle are his: a candy led to another and you're in the vortex of the rotation and hot chocolate drinks and travel and houses with gardens.
and all because I love to talk to strangers.
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