Last night I saw a film of good old Uncle Clint, nomato "Changeling." A robust
pelicula beautiful, epic, dry, clear.
chilling true story in 1928 in Los Angeles, where a corrupt police is the beautiful and the bad weather on the shoulders of citizens.
This reminds me sick to mind an old story of adolescence ...
You should know that even your Lachine, how many children then, he went to the disco on a Sunday afternoon instead of going on the waterfront to feed the pigeons or scare the old and mighty burps from behind the bench (the one I did in the evening, at nightfall ...).
went all the rage in the sunny (so to speak) town where I lived, a place run by lobbyists half geezer (now that I think is back to being blue dust), a friend of law enforcement in the area.
Who has one or more premises, all must keep on good terms, as you know ...
Well, long story short, I blamed an act semiterroristico clinging to the fact that I was holding a long object and sent red smoke, and especially that it was not a dildo to massage.
It was from a cigarette that a color My friend had offered, the brand of those enumerated in the package was SOBRAINE and other brilliant colors including memory yellow, green, black.
of cigarettes a little pussy, but at the time, I regret to say, I was much more ass now.
I was also wearing "strange," wore a kind of a little pantagonna WHITE affinocchiata localacci infamous as it used at that time in 17 years that I attended (and later), and I remember that while everyone danced quietly, suddenly a burning eyes of the general (myself included) resulting stampede toward the exits. All
in tears and desperate to rub his eyes red.
Boh ... What ever could have happened.
A smoke ..?
For what ..?
few days later, the police came to see me at home (my) with a nice complaint to launch smoke in public places, because someone "saw" (a red thing in his hand that sent smoke) and recognized (Case showy clothes) because of the camera images at the entrance of the room.
I should go to the police station the next morning, accompanied by a parent as a minor.
It so happened that the night before the tingessi pantagonna white to black because I liked the most. See
a bit 'you bad luck ...
The marshals, during the search of my room, did not believe their eyes when they saw the head (hanging on chair) freshly painted ..!
The test was too obvious ... I avoid
dwell sull'incredula surreality of the moment and go forward.
tomorrow.
Commissioner, with his father and make sarcastic (and my mother at his side shaking his head) he said:
"Come on, you can tell me about ... you've pulled a smoke bomb.
things are easy.
Do not will do nothing but tell you the truth. "
I mean, I wanted to go to jerk.
still have the clippings of the newspapers of those days, with photos clothing indicted.
But how did it really ..?
You know the dance clubs there is the dry ice machine, a mechanical object that shoots out of the smoke as soon as the liquid containing a level just to get to the gas turn into choreography to faint smell of almonds.
However, if the liquid is shot out at the wrong time, above, it becomes toxic, with effects from smoke-style event for those present.
Thus, to avoid yet another closing time is yet another disgraced the city, the man had the brilliant idea of \u200b\u200bblaming the first nerd dressed as a fairy of his time: I.
And he and his brilliant collaborators, chose between the camera images at the entrance, my, as evident in clothing and then easily recognizable from any accomplice / friend boss in the room.
But the Commissioner knew ..?
He agreed with the boss ..?
The master has burst a few years later, the curses that I sent him ..?
Because the lawyer had to follow my case did not believe me, he took a few million Lira and simply waited for the arrival of an amnesty instead of fighting with me ..? Where is the black
pantagonna ..?
Oh well, watch changeling who is better ...
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