Italynt قصص

listen, the only reason you're here is because this is the euro final. and while i can tell for a fact that you've never kicked a football in your life, you're her because you're rich and famous and it'll be good publicity, right miss meyer?' 'you sound a little obsessed berrettini.' the comment dug a little under his skin. 'how'd you know my name?' he gestured to the big screen in the stadium, 'i saw it on the title card.' he said dryly, proving his point. the girl's bitter smile tightened as she readjusted her sunglasses. it was silent for a few seconds before she replied. 'i would say it's a little rich coming from a guy that's piggybacking off of footballers for exposure. no one care's berrettini. try winning at your own thing first.' -

An anonymous on tumblr wrote me: "The Italian team should have done a drinking game after the euro." and I did it.

"So? I have 500,00 fans screaming my name" "Yeah, but not her" ©gotzeum

"Carpe diem Manu!"