I envy so much your not-so-easy-to-know-who-you-are-referring-to "You". So open to interpretation, so confusing, so dreamy...
I love my native language, but sometimes Italian dubbing is really frustrating.
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I envy so much your not-so-easy-to-know-who-you-are-referring-to "You". So open to interpretation, so confusing, so dreamy...
I love my native language, but sometimes Italian dubbing is really frustrating.
In other news I bought a 5 pound bag of pasta with big dreams of cooking it, spilled half of it on the floor and have roughly 3 pounds left to cook. Trivial but like fuck, That's 2 pounds of pasta wasted to floor. Because I didn't pick up the bag properly. All actions have consequences. Make smart choices, or atleast think through your dumb choices.
So.....My gay Italian ass is making my gay Italian other half's family Christmas cookies. It's not a recipe I know. But I can FEEL myself dissapointing SOMEBODY ELSE'S ITALIAN GRANDMOTHER with my subpar redition of HER CHRISTMAS COOKIES and I don't like it at all.
When you are an italian and one of your friends says: You know... pineapple on pizza it’s quite good. I like it. And you are like:
I once had a dream that I was enjoying an awesome pasta dinner. I ate the whole thing, and finished it off by scooping up sauce with my garlic bread. I woke up with my blanket shoved into my mouth and me chewing on it.
It's funny how people mock italians for defending their food without understanding that it is a really important part of our culture for us.
Italian problems
I was making pancakes, I needed some butter so I checked in the fridge if there was any and I found a box with “butter” written everywhere on it. I opened it without looking and put some in the cooking pan, but it smelled so weird. It was tomatoes sauce, FREAKING. TOMATOES. SAUCE. NONNA Y U DO THIS
me: *eating pasta like it's my job*