"Hello Vezz"
"Welà Beo," said James, taking off the headphones of the i-pod.
"Oh bad luck, you're not listening to your music fucking usual," said Patrick, as he passed his fingers through his hair lacquer.
"At least I do not go around with hair like a clown .." he replied promptly.
Patrick was in fact characterized by a very particular hairstyle and often visits clubs: that was good or bad weather, he wore his white-rimmed sunglasses, his hair seemed to defy gravity (it was common opinion that he had a spare life of cans of hairspray) and its combinations preposterous of fluorescent colors, it could be spotted from a distance. The
'Truzzi' in question was, as usual, staring with a critical eye on his friend James, his sucks you could not blame: James was a metalhead obsessive. He dished to everyone who passed him to pull his music that, more often than not, turned out to be nice just to his ears ...
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