Salviamo il Conte da se stesso.

<a href="http://contenebbia.splinder.com/post/16471732/Messer+Aprile+fa+il+rubacuor.." target="_blank"><img src="http://files.splinder.com/d8d87feeb5f88d8ca0d1c14cb6055715.jpeg"></a>
"All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered."
― Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

<a href="http://contenebbia.splinder.com/post/16471732/Messer+Aprile+fa+il+rubacuor.." target="_blank"><img src="http://files.splinder.com/d8d87feeb5f88d8ca0d1c14cb6055715.jpeg"></a>

It’s unfortunate that I’m coming to this after the very unsatisfactory collection of “fantasy” stories (Asimov never wrote fantasy: he wrote satire), because this was another disappointment. The book is half short stories and half non-fiction, for random reasons, and the non-fiction half is random writings

I’m not crying: a piece of some murdering bot must have gotten in my eye. Rogue Protocol is the third novella in the Murderbot Diaries, and deals with the titular character going deep undercover to figure out what happened in the “mining incident” that was

The sun had set. The great shadows came striding over the forest. In the weird twilight of a late summer day, I saw the path ahead glide on among the mighty trees and disappear. And I shuddered and glanced fearfully over my shoulder. Miles behind

It’s unfortunate that I’m coming to this after the very unsatisfactory collection of “fantasy” stories (Asimov never wrote fantasy: he wrote satire), because this was another disappointment. The book is half short stories and half non-fiction, for random reasons, and the non-fiction half is random writings

I’m not crying: a piece of some murdering bot must have gotten in my eye. Rogue Protocol is the third novella in the Murderbot Diaries, and deals with the titular character going deep undercover to figure out what happened in the “mining incident” that was

The sun had set. The great shadows came striding over the forest. In the weird twilight of a late summer day, I saw the path ahead glide on among the mighty trees and disappear. And I shuddered and glanced fearfully over my shoulder. Miles behind
7 Comments
contenebbia
Posted at 19:40h, 25 MarchVoglio le spille! Sei un genio!
Damiani
Posted at 11:33h, 26 MarchShelidon non c’è niente da fare sei eccezionale!!!!
devo assolutamente implementarlo nel template!!
Shelidon
Posted at 13:17h, 26 MarchLieta che appreziate: quando facciamo partire il reclutamento? *__^
HowlingWolf
Posted at 16:02h, 26 Marchnon vorrei sembrare tonto, ma cosa sono i “pucciosi languori”?
(magari se lo so mi viene voglia di sopprimerli)
Shelidon
Posted at 18:09h, 26 MarchCosì scriveva il Conte:
«se doveste vedere nei prossimi giorni una perniciosissima propensione del Conte a pucciosi languori, se, Dio non voglia, doveste notare un esubero di poesie (di sicuro buon gusto, perché mica son rincoglionito fino a questo punto) da scapigliato in andropausa, vi autorizzo- anzi vi prego- di risvegliarmi con un bello schiaffone dialettico.»
Esempi di pucciosi languori si possono trovare qui.
Njord
Posted at 08:26h, 27 Marchma nonsarà un’impresa disperata?
;-P)))
Shelidon
Posted at 07:22h, 01 AprilNessuna impresa è troppo complicata per questi quattro scazz… ehm… per i prodi mutanti.