MARITA, IT IS ALMOST NEW YEAR, AND MY EYES ITCH. MARITA, I WAS TOLD THE LIQUIDS WOULD WORK, BUT THERE'S BEEN NO PROGRESS WHATSOEVER; THE KIDS STILL DON'T GET ALONG, AND WE LIVE SOME SORT OF DOMESTIC APARTHEID. LIFE'S NOT BAD, MARITA, I GIVE YOU THAT, BUT THERE'S ROOM FOR IMPROVEMENT - AND THERE WILL ALWAYS BE. EVEN IF IT IS OUTRAGEOUSLY GORGEOUS FOR A SUNNY SUNDAY, AND IF ALCOHOL HAS STOPPED DOING IT FOR ME. IF I FEEL LIKE HAVING BEAUTIFUL CONVERSATIONS WITH STRANGERS, WITH AN EMPTY GLASS AHEAD OF US. AN EMPTY, CLEAN GLASS. STILL, MARITA, I GET THE CHANCE TO MEET OLD FRIENDS, AND THE SUBJECT JUST GETS BETTER AND DEEPER. MARITA, WHERE'S YOUR CONDITION, THEN? BECAUSE I FULLY SATISFY IT, AND IT SEEMS TO ME YOU ARE RUNNING OUT OF ARGUMENTS - FOR IT IS LAUNDRY WEEK, AND THE PLACE NEEDS AN EXORCISM.
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CI SIAMO QUATTRO. E LEGGIAMO ASSOLUTAMENTE TUTTO. DOPO TRE O QUATTRO MESI. E CINQUE O SEI BICCHIERI. DI VELENO.