Beppe Severgnini Beppe Severgnini, Corriere della Sera's brilliant columnist and the winner of last year's European Voice Journalist of the Year award, wrote an interesting article for EV this week. It's called The rise of Italy's E-generation. In it he says that Italians no longer have a collective dream but have turned into individual dreamers.

Here are a few juicy snippets.

Something odd happens to journalists and not just in Italy. When they are young and have lots to say, they have nowhere to say it. Then when they know where - newspapers, television, talks - they have nothing left to say.

Travelling has another advantage. You learn to see your country from a distance.

National mood is a serious matter...what does a nation's mood depend on? I'd say on the ability to feel part of a history that is going forward. Without this narrative, a community does not live, it survives. It might have a good time, and spend lavishly to conceal its uncertainties and disappointments...

Today, young Italians dream individually and their dream is often European. The euro, email, Erasmus, Easyjet and the English language are the five crucial Es that have changed many people's lives. My fellow countrymen and women from the E-generation...have grasped the "good fortune of living now in this age adrift", to quote a fine song by Ivano Fossati. We adult Italians struggle to understand.

Just back from The Beangrowers' gig in Gent. Poster on wall already. More on that tomorrow.

Il-lejl it-tajjeb  ¶ 4:09 PM 0 comments

  CHOGMBOWL














Lots of stuff to blog about but it will have to wait. Just one quick thought (before someone else steals it in blog daylight). The wardrobe malfunction at Lou Bondi's mega-show may reveal two (not one) interesting things:

1) the comparative importance of CHOGM in relation to the Superbowl
2) the comparative righteousness of The Times of Malta in relation to the American media. Both mention the words 'God', 'values' and 'sin' all the time but what about their reaction to the respective malfunctions?

The incident also reminded me of a splendid character in Kundera's Immortality. Those who've read it might guess which one.

A dopo.  ¶ 6:09 AM 0 comments

  CHOGM update I'm glad to see that BBC News on-line is, in fact, covering CHOGM. In a subdued way.  ¶ 5:07 AM 2 comments

  Sigarett, sigarett s'il vous plait (from Midnight Express)
When I saw this great photo of Stagno, I panicked for a minute or two. Could Stagno really be consciously adopting the trademark cigarette-between-second-and-middle-finger-of-right-hand stance which the gentleman of letters pictured above loves so dearly? The ultimate decadent statement in my eyes. I have debated this fascinating little detail in great depth with friends, concluding that the decadence stems from its manifest lack of practicality. It was with great relief that I realised that Stagno was letting other clues hint at the fact that he too is an acerbic chronicler of human misery...

I've nearly finished La Possibilite. I'd love to translate some passages into Maltese and may give it a shot in the coming days as I think the language would lend itself beautifully to the savage wit, destructive thoughts and dirty humour. As well as the passages about the astoundingly rapid decline of religion in traditional societies.  ¶ 9:49 AM 0 comments

  CHOGM "Malta's opportunity to shine", "a golden opportunity to showcase our cultural heritage", "nuru lill- barranin il-qaghda imwiergha tal-haddiem Malti". Even Salvu Balzan allowed himself to get moderately enthusiastic. But I've been scouring the international press for at least a scrap of news on CHOGM and all I found which is remotely connected was this. Hopefully something will crop up as CHOGM chugs on. Feel free to inundate me with links when you come across a mention.  ¶ 10:55 AM 0 comments

  Harold Pinter Snippet from Private Eye kindly sent to me this morning by Balint (The Emperor) Szlanko. Dedicated, in jest, to Raphael (V-sign) Vassallo and Jacques R. Zammit.

Lines Written To
Commemorate The
Award Of The Nobel
Prize For Literature 2005
To Myself by Harold
Pinter O.M.

So. They have give me
The Nobel Prize
For Literature.

That'll show that
Fucking bastard Bush
And his warmongering
Friend Blair.

Wankers.

(c) H. Pinter  ¶ 4:14 AM 1 comments

  On the Road Kien weekend helu dan li wasal biex jintemm. Tlaqna minn Brussell il-Gimgha filghaxija ma’ Elodie u ma’ Manu wara ikla take-away Thai minghand ta’ hdejja biex wara saghtejn u nofs autoroute fic-cpar wasalna Limerle, villagg mhux ikbar mill-Ghasri, ezatt fuq il-fruntiera ma’ dak il-pajjiz provincjali fejn tefghu l-ankra bosta Maltin.

Daphne, li missha tikteb ktieb jismu Malta’s a Pretty Shit Place To Be, ghandha zball: if you leave Malta, choosing somewhere equally small may have its own advantages. It’s called recognition and applies to Daphne just as much as it applies to Alfred. Malajr thossok king insomma, bit-teritorju, bit-truppa ta’ ammiraturi (u bil-faux ennemis) u bil-hsieb kostanti illi ma tridx wisq biex issir xi haga. Anki jekk mhux necessarjament tkun imdorri tippoppa sidrek. Jista’ jkun li din hi karatteristika ohra li taghmilna Maltin u vantagg li forsi ninjoraw ghax jaqblilna?

Habib tieghi Ungeriz, li kont nghix mieghu Brussell, isostni li l-hajja amoruza tieghu l-Lussemburgu hija ferm aktar movimentata minn dik li kellu hawn. You can’t avoid bumping into people but it’s still international. Jidher li wara li dahlu l-ghaxar pajjizi l-godda fl-EU, l-Lussemburgu sar il-Belt Kapitali ta’ l-Imhabba. Hallikom minn Parigi. U istra, kif kull min naf, hlief forsi dal-Juventin, erhilu jitrakka ma’ nisa gejjin mill-SK, l-LT jew mill-LV? Qishom ma jezistux il-pajjizi l-ohra. Min jaf ghaliex? Perswaz illi jkun hemm xi helu jithajjar jikteb tezi fuq dal-misteru socjologiku.

Insomma, b’rihet gheluq snin Valentina Ferrari (li missierha jismu Guido), kilna hafna speck, polenta veneta, goulash u Nutella, xrobna hafna nbid mill-Korsika, imxejna mixja ta’ tliet sighat fil-bard qalb il-baqar Belgjani u sirna nafu hafna nies helwin. Lil Valentina xtrajnilha kimono vjola li fakkar lit-Taljani kollha u lili, imma lil hadd izjed, fil-libsa tal-Papa. La Ferme des Pres ma kellhomx Sky Sport u l-partita Roma-Juve segwejtha fuq it-teletext bejn platt goulash, bela nbid u t-tiramisu’. La Repubblica, li l-gurnalisti sportivi taghha nisthajjilhom kittieba ta’ veru, iddeskriviet lil Juve b’dawn il-kelmiet: calma, cinica e cattivissima. De gustibus non est disputandum.

Illum soqna lura u f’temp ta’ saghtejn wasalna d-dar. U ergajt ikkonvincejt ruhi li, wara li jinghad kollox, l-problemi l-kbar kollha ta’ Malta huma semplici hafna. U li forsi l-politikanti ma jahtux daqs kemm nahsbu.  ¶ 12:05 PM 0 comments

  Do it... Right: Translator and EU enlargement enthusiast Mark (Xifer) Vella discovering that Hagar Qim Temples, rather than national poet Dun Karm Psaila, should feature on Malta's future 1 euro coins.   ¶ 3:38 PM 0 comments

  One man's fundamentalist is another man's moral champion Name-calling in the European Parliament

"La comparaison de l'avortement à la Shoah est scandaleuse !", s'insurge Mme de Keyser. "Elle est hélas souvent évoquée par les "pro-life", mais cette fois la ligne rouge a été franchie au Parlement européen, où l'on assiste, avec l'entrée des nouveaux pays, à l'apparition d'une génération d'intégristes", s'indigne-t-elle.  ¶ 8:54 AM 0 comments

  Life is like a game of bocci, says award winner
Lanzarote News reporting from Malta

Pierre J. Mejlak was all smiles yesterday as the world media swarmed to get a glimpse of the handsome award-winning e-journalist. Asked about the secret of his premature success, Mejlak, 23, pictured above, startled the assembled hacks by producing a shiny, silver ball and fondling it lovingly. "Life is like a game of bocci", he quipped to the amazement of all those present at the glitzy, exclusive apres-awards party. "Trid tolqot il-likk", he added to rupturous applause from his mainly female fan-base who later carried him off to the nearest kazin to chants of "Viva Malta, Viva l-Mejlak".

Lanzarote called Mejlak this morning to quiz him about The Times of Malta's triumphant clean-sweep of the remaining prestigious awards but the Gozitan journalist was understandably unavailable for comment.

  ¶ 4:07 AM 2 comments

  An Investigative Journalist's Guide to French Slang The eyes of the world have been firmly focused on France over the past 18 days. For all the wrong reasons, of course. Even the punters back home in Malta, who’re usually more prone to reflect and report on what goes on in the UK and in Italy as if those two countries were the alpha and omega of European culture and politics, have been casting their gaze on the slightly more inaccessible Republique francaise. Thanks to the riots, most people back home, brought up on an Italo-Anglo-Saxon-Malti diet, have by now probably heard of Seine-Saint-Denis and Clichy-sous-Bois while Nicolas Sarkozy is likely to become a household name alongside Tony Blair and Gianfranco Fini. Every cloud has a silver lining they say. Didier Destremeau’s new book might, by an ironic twist of fate, become a bestseller. But the language used in the banlieues of Paris, Toulouse and Lyon is far removed from the flowing prose with which the ex-ambassadeur will have adorned the pages of his book. Here’s Lanzarote’s list of French slang that might prove useful should any Maltese investigative journalist attempt to wade through the wreckage and destruction to discover whether any Maltin live in Le Blanc-Mesnil. Bondi + might want to give Strasbourg and Joseph Muscat a miss. Xarabank, which has recently been investigating in Rotterdam, might want to travel to Clichy-sous-Bois in order to unravel whether Sandro Zerafa (muzicist maghruf Malti) is living anywhere near there. Or maybe Nies ta’ Veru could link up with someone’s desperate great-aunt whose car was torched by those darn immigrants.

Here’s the list:

Bagnole(la) – the real star of the past 18 days. The innocent car also known as voiture or automobile.

Beurs (les) – persons of North African origin. The expression « Black-Blanc-Beur », a take on « Bleu-Blanc-Rouge », was used to describe the French national football team of Thuram, Petit and Zidane that went on to win the 1998 World Cup (when everyone in Malta had, in double despair, started cheering for Brazil). It was later used to describe the whole of multicultural France but has recently come under severe scrutiny.

Bordel (le) – literally a bordello or whore-house. A mess or utter chaos.

Bougnoules (les) – a derogatory term used to describe persons of North African origin.

Boulot (le) – work. Used in the lovely expression « metro-boulot-dodo » which describes the typical life of most working adults. Specjalment jekk idoqqlok dak l-izveljarin, Norman.

Cathos-fachos (les) – in the French psyche the two concepts almost go together naturally. Short for Catholiques – Fascistes.

Chichi – Jacques Rene Chirac, President de la Republique. I only got to know that his second name was Rene today. Uncanny coincidence.

Dodo (le) – sleep.

Flics or Schmitts (les) – the police.

Flotte (la) – water.

Gosses (les) - children

Gamins (les) – also children

Gonzesse (la) – a chick (as in, good looking girl)

Kif-kif – used in the expression c’est kif-kif. In Maltese mhux xorta?

Klebar (le) – in Maltese kelb.

Mec (le) – a guy.

Nana (la) – a girl. Generally used appreciatively.

Paname – Paris.

PPDA – Patrick Poivre d’Arvor. The French have elevated their newscasters into veritable stars and PPDA is at the apex of this star-sytem. France’s answer to Leonard Callus.

Ritals (les) – derogatory term for Italians. The English have the Irish, the French have the Italians. The Maltese have their klandestini and their Gozitans.

Sarko – The very media-conscious Minister of the Interior, Nicolas Sarkozy, himself the son of Hungarian immigrants. He is blamed in some quarters for fanning the flames by using the word racaille (in Maltese zibel) to describe certain law-breaking individuals. My Magyar friends inform me that Sarkozy actually means bog or muddy pit in Hungarian. The man has his own blog.

A la prochaine...  ¶ 1:42 PM 2 comments

  The Right to Carry Adverts? The discourse on rights has come a long way baby...

Jibqa’ jisfida
PETER Busuttil, direttur tal-kumpanija tar-riklamar Red Advertising qieghed ikompli jisfida billi jcahhad lil dan il-gurnal minn riklami anke fejn jidhlu kumpaniji privati.Kaz tipiku kien dak tal-kumpanija Mothercare, li bhal kumpaniji kummercjali privat ohrajn, ghandhom kemm klijenti li jhaddnu t-twemmin Laburista, u kemm klijenti li jhaddnu t-twemmin Nazzjonalista.

(Kullhadd, 13/11/2005)  ¶ 1:20 AM 0 comments

  Concours A slightly late "good luck" to all regular readers of this blog who sat for the translators' concours today. A special mention goes out to fellow bloggers Pierre and Mark. But one must not forget John, Bertu and Kasia (who may read this one day and skin me alive if I don't mention them...).

Studiare per il concorso e lento...diventare fonctionnaire e un po' piu rock ;-)   ¶ 7:04 AM 0 comments

  Bon anniversaire Courrier!
Courrier INTERNATIONAL is 15 years old and I've just picked up my own anniversary edition from the newsagent in DG RELEX - just the right place to pick up a copy, I thought. The concept is wonderful: all the articles are taken directly from the international press and translated into French so that in every edition, articles and editorials from around the world (from Egypt's Al Watan Al-Arabi to Poland's Gazeta Wyborcza to Japan's Nihon Keizai Shimbun) stand side-by-side, giving a wide panorama of views and perspectives. This week's bumper edition covers the main events tackled by Courrier since 1990 while a special supplement (La rage des banlieues) throws light (but not fire) on the riots in France. An article from Algeria's Le Quotidien d'Oran points a finger at France's policeforce. The New York Times compares the events in France to the fall-out after Katrina and claims that the anger of the most unfortunate was being expressed. Geneva's Le Temps focuses on the impact of blogs as the events unfolded. Hungary's Magyar Hirlap attacks the politically correct language used in France and proposes that the only solution is to put an end to immigration. Poland's Rzeczpospolita holds that the only remedy is a truly multicultural society. That's just a small sample.

During the 2003 countdown to the various referenda on EU membership, I even remember getting a glimpse of our own Times of Malta on Courrier's pages.

Go on! Buy your own copy!  ¶ 4:54 AM 1 comments

  The End of Faith During my first trip to the USA in the summer of 2004, I chanced on this incredible work by Sam Harris. I think that anyone wishing to engage in a serious discussion about some of the terrible events occurring in the world today should at least be aware of this book. You may, of course, disagree or agree with what Harris says, but his viewpoint should be part of the equation.





“At last we have a book that focuses on the common thread that links Islamic terrorism with the irrationality of all religious faith. THE END OF FAITH will challenge not only Muslims but Hindus, Jews and Christians as well.”
—Peter Singer, professor of philosophy at Princeton and author of The President of Good and Evil: The Ethics of George W. Bush.  ¶ 8:24 AM 5 comments

  After Paris

It was to be expected. As Mark has already pointed out, Malta’s far-rightists are having a field day and are gleefully hurling their ideological molotov cocktails all over the place after the Paris riots. Multiculturalism can’t work; multiculturalism is intrinsically wrong; this is what liberalism leads to. Wake up, Malta, they shout. But wait a minute guys. First of all, it would be very instructive should you care to follow the way in which French talk-shows and opinion columns are covering the events. Altro che Xarabank. But more importantly, did the Maltese government ever say that it was pursuing a liberal immigration policy? Did Michaeal Frendo or Lawrence Gonzi ever say that Malta would be a better place if it was more ‘multicultural’. Hardly. On the contrary. They seem to be doing their best to ship as many immigrants as possible out of the place while simply adhering to international obligations. We hardly risk emulating Brussels, London or Paris any time soon, guys, ne vous inquietez pas trop. Which obviously mans that those places are simply much more interesting, and less frustrating, to live in. But there you have it. In the meantime the liberal mob will just go on enjoying all the music, art, food and openness that multiculturalism has to offer. L-ikla t-tajba.  ¶ 2:58 AM 10 comments

  Le weekend, part II …Tkompli

Kilna fiz-zona ta’ Pigalle (li l-Francizi, biex jitnejku jghidulu Pigallos). Il-Moulin Rouge, Sex shops jbieghu l-pjacir. No big deal. Londra, wara kollox, Victoria’s Secret u Ann Summers saru ‘high-street’. Hawnhekk il-pornografija mhux biss hija accettabbli imma saret mainstream. Hemm min jargumenta llum li l-abbiss kulturali li jifred il-Punent mid-dinja Islamika m’hijiex id-demokrazija imma s-sess. Waqqafna ukoll pimp Taljan split image ta’ Norman Lowell. M’hemmx dubju li ci vogliono uomini di cultura.

L-ghada ikla sushi, u harba lejn La Fleche d’Or f’Rue Bagnolet fejn wahda mill-bands li jmexxi Henri (www.stuckinthesound.com) kienet qed taghmel is-sound check qabel il-kuncert ta’ l-ghaxra. Iltqajna maghhom. Wiehed minnhom kien l’alter ego post-punk rocker ta’ Jacques Zammit. Ma nafx kienx jismu Rene. Imxejna nghagglu lejn Bastille fejn qattajna l-isbah saghtejn fil-Fnac (wara li ragel iswed libes kilt u beret staqsiena biex ingorrulu xi kaxex) . Hrigna, fost l-ohrajn, b’compil La Musique de Paris Derniere (compilation mahduma minn mart il-Lou Bondi Franciz). Joey Ramone jkanta What a wonderful world, l-ahwa Ahmet u Dweezil Zappa jaghtu xehta dark lil Baby One More Time. Send-up bellezza ta’ My Way minn Sid Vicious. Ghal 98 euro (it-taxxa fuq giex flights Malta-Catania?) tiddobba l’oeuvre complet ta’ Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

Entre Nation et Chatelet, les trains ne roulent pas a cause d’un accident grave de passager. Kulhadd jaf xi tfisser. Tragedja ohra.

Lura l-Fleche d’Or, stazzjon tal-ferrovija renovat. Skultura enormi ta’ giex zwiemel imdendla mas-saqaf, konverzazzjoni ma’ Julie li tahdem fuq il-court metrages (c’est inutile, je desespere, il n’y a pas d’argent dans ce secteur). Erba’ bands punk jew post-punk. Kollha jkantaw bl-Ingliz. Atmosfera franciza hafna. Very sexy but soooooo unpretentious. Dat-tfajliet jeqirdulek il-ftit ghaqal li tkun rabbejt. Agathe skuzat ruhna maghna: “today I kidnap Henri”. Hafna zfin, hafna birra. Tres post-punk rock.

Hrigna, kienet qed tqattar imma ridna nimxuha sa Bastille. Boulevards ma jispiccaw qatt. Wasalna hdejn il-Colonne de Juillet fil-hamsa. Il-figura tad-deheb tixbah hafna l-istatwa ta’ Eros imma hija Liberte. Dik li jhobbu jeqirdu l-fundamentalisti u l-faxxisti. Qatt ma fhimt ghaliex. Dhalna f’café chic. Aktar xeni mill-films. Tfajla mudella f’libsa bajda u sewda Chanel, handbag parigg. Fishnet tights, suspenders for all to see. Kir royale u xampanja. Tistenna, tistenna. Jaslu l-irgiel. Imbaghad hames tfajliet ohra. Gangland movie meets Paris chic?

Augmenter les desirs jusqu’a l’insoutenable tout en rendant leur realisation de plus en plus inaccessible, tel etait le principe unique sur lequel reposait la societe occidentale. (osservazzjoni kemmxejn esagerata imma helwa tas-sur MH).

Cut. Car on motorway. Lone driver. Hotel Costes. La musique de Paris Derniere. Anderlecht. Gare du Midi. Driver picks up girlfriend at Eurostar terminal.

Cut . Office scene in a European institution. (a very very Johnny Depp moment)

Two days later…

Car on motorway going in opposite direction. La musique de Paris Derniere.

Iva, weekend iehor Parigi.

I’ve just decided to give you an I.M. Beck moment (just to be ironic): Le Square Trousseau. 1, rue Antoine Vollon. 75012, Paris.

(the 11th night of molotov cocktails in the banlieues as we drove back to Brussels tonight)  ¶ 4:09 PM 1 comments

  Le Weekend Iz-Zico, li sar jiddeskrivi ruhu bhala “one third lawyer, one third translator, one third muscian”, rega’ kellu konferenza tat-tradutturi Brussell. U meta z-Zico jitla’ Brussell sar joqghod fil-guest house Le Maltais, “three stars, comfortable foldable mattresses, generous drinks cabinet, within jogging distance of the European Quarter.”

L-ingredjenti kollha ghal erbat ijiem xalar.

Nofs flixkun ‘Limuncell of Gozo’. Skond iz-Zico “l-ahjar li qatt doqt”. Jien ghajjartu patrijott falz. Dali’s bar sal-erbgha. Qomna tard. Breakfast Chatelain. Kellna naqbdu t-Thalys imma ddecidejna li nsuqu tul l-autoroute. Mappa u lapes. Tlaqna. Konverzazzjoni fuq in-nisa, fuq il-muzika li qed jaghmel iz-Zico u fuq il- Black Holes. Dub u jazz fuq ir-radio. Il-bidla lampanti bejn l-autoroute Belgjana u l-Franciza. Min qatt qal li d-differenzi kulturali qed jitmermru?! Diga dalam. Charles de Gaulle, Saint Denis. Wasalna fuq il-peripherique. Porte de St. Ouen. Niehdu Porte de Clichy? Hwienet tal-kebab kullimkien. Suwed u Gharab. U qeghdin Parigi. L-ANR ittihom krizi jekk jigu s’hawn. Belt hajja u mimlija energija. Madankollu l-banlieues jibqghu post fejn tista’ tfaqqa’ gwerrilja f’hakka t’ghajn. U mid-dehra hekk rega' gara l-bierah.

La Fourche – fejn kien joqghod iz-ziju Dom. Hawn kont nigi ninnamra jew nahrab. Istra ma nbidel xejn imma kollox jidher izghar. Ghaliex tghid Zico? Ghax kbirna? Jew ghax ili nghix barra erba’ snin? Min jaf?

4, Place de Clichy, il-hames sular. Henri (maghruf bhala Tonton). Erba’ snin ilu kien tela’ fuq il-palk il-Kampus ta’ l-Universita’ wara li l-pulizija kienu waqqfu kuncert tal-Ispooky Monkey. Kien rama’ jdoqq id-drums u f’temp ta’ ghaxar minuti z-Zico skopra percussionist fenomenali (iz-Zico jghid ukoll li l-Istudenti Demokristjani Maltin, l-organizzaturi tas-serata, kienu qalulhom biex liz-zeffiena Natalia Putinskaya “jnizzluha minn hemm”). Hrigna fuq il-gallarija u Tonton qalilna “tous les jours c’est un film ici”. U t-tfajla tieghu Agathe. F’temp ta’ minuta ftakart ghaliex kont nigi hawn kull hames xhur. Mike u Elise.

Hrigna, il-hsejjes ta’ Parigi, ir-riha ta’ Parigi. Posters ta’ l-MTA ma’ kull kantuniera. Ritratt ta’ mara qed tixxabbat ma’ l-irdum. Ma deherx did-darba La Vallette. Kilna taht Montmartre. Emince de boeuf, maigret de canard, morue, Pinot Noir imkessah mill-Alsace. B’xejn qalli z-Zico. Insomma daqs Brussell. Orhos minn Malta, ridt nghid. Inzilna sa l-Elysee Montmartre, konna fuq il-guest list. Kju ma jispicca qatt. Tlaqna ‘l hemm. On est fini chez le chinois. Biere a la peche. Laghbna tnejn Lotto u lura fil-kju. Il-bouncer kien jismu Oscar. Big boy, fattizzi ta’ Gharbi u lehnu qisu ta’ Renato. Melting pot. Dhalna. Muzika elektro industrijali. DJ Germaniz. Shana papali. Hrigna ftit iddizappuntati. Panini-merguez u raqda interrotta mill-inhir taz-Zico.

Rue Montorgeuil. Bars, cafes u ristoranti. Sens generali ta’ sbuhija. They got their priorities right qalli z-Zico bid-dahka. Gesiers de canard u crème brule. Xeni minn film. Giex irgiel jirrummblaw fridge, inqalbet fuq Mini Minor. Hoss kbir, baqghu ghaddejjin ghal ghonq it-triq. Johrog is-sewwieq, kemmxejn tipsy. Ihares lejn id-daqqa, jhares madwaru, jibda jxejjrilhom. Ma jifqux. Jitlaq jigri warajhom imma saqajh ma jtuhx. Clochard waqaf ikellimna, jew jghid il-hmerijiet. U l-hmerijiet poezija. Xtrajna kemxa films. Les Amants du Pont-Neuf ,L’appartement (dan l-ahhar Monica Bellucci stqarret li “noi donne siamo tutte un po’ puttane”), Tintin - Le Temple du Soleil, Manga jismu le 51e Galaxie, Le Mepris.

Tissokta  ¶ 3:47 PM 3 comments