Se mia nonna avesse le ruota sarebbe una carrozza delle ferrovie di Sua Maestà!
(Non so che cosa ne avrebbe detto mio nonno, però.)
Today, we are assembled here to accelerate, I mean, to celebrate, the inflation, sorry, I mean the inauguration, of the first fully automobile, no, automated ham-and-cheese, no ambulance lane on this, our very own four-lame, four-LANE, highway to hell.
I wouldn’t trust this crowd if I were you. I’m not you, which is a shame, for you, because then you would be me and I am wonderful.
But that is beside the point.
If you want to practice standards of excellent speaking, try to avoid sentences like that one above. It was poorly written and the delivery was even worse.
One of these people is Helen Mirren. The other is me. She’s a real knockout. And I mean that literally. She knocked me right out in the third round of our little bout. She was visiting the radio station, which I immediately declared to be a waste of national treasure, since if you can’t actually see Helen Mirren, you’re missing so much. But I digress. She was visiting the station and heard that I was “training” for a charity fund-raiser where I was going to go three rounds with another deejay from the station, to raise money for the children’s hospital or something. She visited us in the underground gym below the radio station. At first I was wondering what she was doing there but she made it quite clear as she began to remove her blouse. She told me she would volunteer to go three rounds with me as a sparring partner, as long as there were no cameras. She was already putting on her head gear and chest protector before I could sputter something like, well, of course, thank you, that would be lovely. While our trainer Guido was lacing up her gloves, she looked at me with a sly sideways glance and said, “I was a golden gloves champion in England when I was 13, after that they wouldn’t let me fight against the boys anymore and I had to quit and take up ballet instead.” I had to say something, so I asked her, “what was your record?” “16-0.” That was it, she just said sixteen and oh. No further comment. She turned around and produced a flurry of shadow boxing punches that made a noise like the wind. She climbed into the ring and said, “Let’s make this real, it’s more fun that way, and better for you, don’t you think? Who can ref for us?” We had Guido get into the ring to ref us. At the sound of the bell she came at me like an angry cat, making little grunting noises with every punch. Combination after combination, bobbing and weaving, she showed me three different looks, one of them southpaw, and landed hard punches on my head, my ribs and gut. I tried to clinch but Guido separated us immediately and muttered something like, “stay offa her” to me. She stepped back and let me collect myself. I thought I had better come at her so that she didn’t take offense. As soon as I put out a left jab she sidestepped me and clocked me so hard on the side of the head that I fell to one knee. The guys in the gym heard the punch when it landed and they all went quiet and then they slowly all came over to see Helen Mirren kick the crap out of me. She had me on the ropes the whole rest of the first round. Before the second round she didn’t even sit down, she just jumped up and down gently in her corner, as if she were jumping rope. The whole second round she played cat and mouse with me, coming in with a stinger, then dropping back and letting me come in. Every time I came in she had a counter. No matter what I did, I couldn’t land a clean punch. She was elusive and slippery, and faster than anyone I’ve every sparred with. Then she’d step in and punish me. At the end of the second round she caught me with an uppercut that snapped my head backwards. Bell. I didn’t know if I should be mad or just laugh it off. She was just looking at me the whole time before the third round. I could see her thinking, but what? Third round, last one, I thought, better make the most of it. I came at her for the first two minutes non-stop. She took a few and dodged a lot more. She said something through her mouthpiece like, “finish, finish” and then, she caught me. Helen Mirren was suddenly standing over me and Guido was counting 8 9 10, what the fuck, I thought, and she said, “You passed out. Something hit your jaw and you passed out for a few seconds. Are you all right?” and she stuck out her hands for her gloves to be taken off. I guess she knocked me out. I don’t remember and there were no cameras. Then as she was taking off her chest protector and head gear she asked me, “you want to get a shower? where are the showers? let’s go get a shower and a rub down, eh?” [•]
First, you will need to put your shoes on. But before that, put your socks on. It is very important to get the order of these operations absolutely right.
The best colour for running shoes is red. That is why my running shoes are red. I need them to be the best color, so they are red. You can get red shoes too. They’re really neat.
Then go out and follow the road, placing one foot in front of the other, faster and faster until you are running.
Then if you are a really important and talented radio personality, you can have your picture taken in front of a banner of your radio station’s logo.
If you are especially lucky, you will have a woman and a man standing in their swimsuits in the background of the picture.
I remember taking the train a lot when I was young, but today I either drive or fly almost everywhere I go, that is when I’m not running.
È stato un onore essere invitato all’Università di Catania per un convegno sul futuro della radio. Si vede in questo video che parlo con le mani come un’italiano. Dopo 30 anni in Italia, credo che io sarei scemo se non avessi adottato quest’abitudine dagli altri italiani. Fa parte di parlare in italiano, parlare con le mani! Infatti, taglierò corto questo paragrafo perché non posso esprimermi soltanto con le parole scritte, ho bisogno di agitare le mani un po’.
Non è una stampa di una foto di Lindsey Lohan, montata su cartone. È veramente lei, durante uno dei suoi famosi viaggi. Lei era di passaggio ed è finita in Italia. Devo dire che l’ho conosciuta per lavoro. Ho dato del mio meglio. Comunque, a me non sembra una foto di lei stessa, montata su cartone, per niente.
Le mie scarpe rosse mi danno poteri straordinari. Fanno bene ai piedi e sono belle da vedere. Amo le mie scarpe rosse.