I want to tell a story.
There was once a fan on the street. He walked proud head high in the neck with his beautiful scarf "hate everyone." He saw the Ancol turn a fan of the opposing team, "bastard, I hate him." He put his hands firmly in the pockets of his tight jeans ready to fight against the hated stranger. Suddenly the hated stranger casts his eye on the other side where another is coming hated, do not know him but had a different shirt and was still hate him. He saw that these two were recognized from far away and beginning to scream, he ran to meet him. They embraced giving themselves big pats on the back, jaw-dropping: "... but as they are different, because you hate?" and looked at them wrong with her scarf tightly around his neck all hate. The two ultras
passes by without even realizing that he was an "enemy" were too busy to talk about the latest adventures and had already spotted the corner pub to go to down a beer for every story and the stories were many.
He was left alone with his hatred and realized that there were other fans in that space, all to hate. But they were singing happy quaffing beer and dancing to the rhythm of the upbeat.
He went so hateful to the den of his friends to tell fans the hatred he had felt at seeing "the bastards" all together in the room. His comrades shouted approval, some grudgingly other strange ways almost incomprehensible hanging by the legs as a sign of defiance (it seems that in reality often waving his arms like that, sometimes even when they walked just a little 'bent on the back).
There was only one of them, the youngest, who after hearing the story felt a discomfort in your neck, the scarf "hate everyone" who had with him took his breath and then he understood everything. If you took it, threw it on the ground and saluted his former comrades: "go ahead to hate ... you really do not understand a shit! I go to the pub ... "and walked away, leaving behind a series of screams and noises coming from various lair.
arrived at the pub, had a moment of hesitation ... Still had Color him and his team thought they could also do something about it. He was alone and the pub was full. There were also bitter enemies in that room and it was one of them who saw him first and called loudly: "Hey you! What are you doing here? ".
The ultras had a little 'fear, but it was not a coward, and then took a deep breath and said, "they say that here you can drink good beer and listening to good music, although there are some assholes like you!" And began to laugh loudly.
Silence "... maybe I've done it ..." he thought.
And they are right by the liver big boy! "He laughed along with all the pub. "This I'll pay you around ... Come here greenhorn. " Ran up, grabbed him by the arm and led him to the counter handing her first liter
... and she is dancing on stage at a local ska band ...
Here's a little story to tell you what I think about people who hate and abuse in every situation of this bad word. Perhaps the worst that we can use all the words between the Italian language knows.
And now ...
... Rude Boy
oh oh oh
Rude Boy
oh oh oh
Rude Boy
oh oh oh
Dance to the rhythm of upbeat ...
Enjoy
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