This “sentiment terrace” story is starting to get incredibly ridiculous, so I make a disclaimer: if you are a well-meaning male or a feminist (the right-thinking female), stop reading now. You won't like what I write at all.

I think I said, in 17 years of blogging, that I worked assiduously as a bouncer, to finance myself in college. And I think I said I stopped when the clubs stopped being fun places to become the cocaine market, complete with Albanian bouncers and drug dealers, and all.

But in the "everything", just before I left, a new custom was also established. The "privee". The privee has evolved over time, initially I saw it born in Modena, where (out of envy of the real debutante ball, that of the Academy) the august maidens of new wealth had "private" parties in the disco to celebrate their "debut".

Actually, they could have rented the entire club, but that way no one would see them. Since the new rich wants it to be known that he is now rich and therefore better than you, then the "parties in the privee" began, that is, in practice the party took place under the eyes of the mob who danced normally, bought bad cocktails at stratospheric prices, and he could observe the “private” part where there were generally taller and better dressed girls (I've seen them dressed for the evening, with a lot of train) or perhaps in a more pretentious way that uncorked champagne.

In short, whoever puote puote, who can't can shake it . This kind of event, from the invention of the new class of rich pig breeders and small entrepreneurs of Sassuolo ceramics, has undergone a sudden evolution with the arrival of cocaine.

The privee '(not to be confused with the place for swinger couples) became the place of the "beautiful people": a way of saying to all the others "we are superior to you". But also the way to tell the hamster to run faster in his wheel, that sooner or later he too would end up among the VIPS.

When the world of prostitution and the world of cocaine saw this, they actually combined it all. The prostitutes were "models" (at the time, Models of the East – "Trump docet"), recruited by "modeling agencies", or "event planning agencies", or by "public relations agencies". The other ingredient was the river of cocaine, which was offered to the models to stun them. Then there were the "beautiful people", that is a crowd of entrepreneurs (small entrepreneurs, I repeat: in the Modena area they were textile entrepreneurs from Carpigiani, Sassuolese ceramics entrepreneurs, and then farmers enriched with milk-Parma or pigs).

The game consisted of putting together old pigs, less old pigs (but still pigs), meaty looking for money (and to climb society by dint of p0mp1ni), more girls from the east eager to experience the thrill of capitalism , and see what happened.

The bouncers were initially the same as always, including me, but then to avoid problems with the police we stopped (the police have prejudices towards those who escort loads of drugs) and the Slavic or Albanian thugs took our place.

A peculiarity of this place was, of course, that the girls could not complain: if, let's say, while a danced one came, he put his hands under her skirt and put a finger in her ass (let's say it as it is), the responses to the young woman's complaints were:

1. hasn't huffed yet, turn the tray around.
2. go home, this is not a daycare.

ditto if the girl came from the security to complain. She was "boring", "she didn't know how to have fun", and therefore she was escorted to the door, or to call "her manager", that is to say the "model agency" or "event organization", or "model agency" PR ”, which perhaps convinced them. And if they came back, the guy would arrive with TWO fingers, to clarify who's in charge, and that evening they "had a party" in the truly "private" area of ​​the club. So he went over the rules of the game. How dare you challenge a small ceramic entrepreneur? Stay in your place.

At some point, however, the merry-go-round is over. The disco died because with that background it had become an unpleasant, violent and not at all funny place. But the business was up now, so there are the same agencies that organize the same parties with the same patrons.

But by the time the nightclub ended, the phenomenon became EVEN more exclusive. Let's say that while before (in Romagna) almost all the guys ended up in a disco party, and if you knew the right ones you could also enter the privee (there were those who also offered to security to turn a blind eye and enter anyway), today it has become the exclusive custom of good neighborhoods, and apartments that are not under a couple of million euros.

There are side effects though.

1. we said that the privee in the middle of the normal disco was meant to say "I am me and you are not shit". If you uncork a stack of 300 euro champagne bottles amidst the applause and then waste them in an absurd pyramid of glasses (memories of the 90s parties) in a place where peons pay hardly 20,000 lire for a negroni at the counter , the thing becomes elitist. From the outside, everyone looks at you and envies you. And you know you have arrived. "We are us and you are you": but if you do it in a fucking villa in the countryside, nobody sees you . And the new rich WANTS to be seen. So he will do them in the center of Milan, and will also take care to disturb the neighbors, to make noise, in short, to show that he is rich and knows the beautiful people. And there is no use protesting because he is him and you are nobody.
2. the cocaine mafia and the prostitution mafia are at the center of everything. Except when someone comes from the province who knows a lot of flesh (the provincial body is sexier than the city one. Not that it takes much to be sexier than the average Milanese), and intends to make his way, without knowing / assess that his competitor is a mobster and dissolves children in acid on weekends. The whole circle around these phenomena is the turn of the hamsters that "reach" the top by dint of running in the wheel. Even among the cocaine or cunt suppliers there are hamsters running around. At the end of the day, it is the hamster environment that has run enough to get to the top.
3. wives and girlfriends come into play. In "normal" privee they often avoided being seen to avoid the humiliation of being cuckolded by their husbands in front of others. But with the arrival of cocaine, men become more and more violent and their fantasies more and more extreme and violent. Since the lady does not like the fist * ng, which is the new fashion of cocaine addicts, she prefers that her husband vent by breaking another. All the while, the lady will exhibit an august sense of superiority towards the slave who gets "the best" of her husband. This thing started with the normal privee, when they "made the party" to the girls (but in those days the double penetration was the must) but today what they tell me is the fist * ng. So to recap: the girl "woke up full of pain" because they stuck her arm in her ass. And the girlfriend watched, so there were no peons watching her cuckolded.

Now the question: but what do you think?

And my answer is: I don't give a fuck. And you shouldn't give a shit either. For a few simple reasons.

1. we are talking about environments of organized crime. Who can bring a tray of cocaine to a party? The Discalced Carmelites? Uber Food? Microsoft? No, clearly the mafia brings them to us: the figures are high. And again: who manages escort tours (which are called "models" is everything to say: there are no photographs that portray them while "modeling") if not the mafia? In other words, these are gangs of criminals who satisfy the vices of the upper classes by changing the name of things. Instead of "pimps" they are "agencies that organize events" and so on. It's stuff that concerns yes and no one per thousand of the population. It hardly happens to any girl, being exclusive environments you have to work hard to be able to enter. There is no risk, or almost, neither for you nor for the girls you know. No one is there by chance or because "a friend brought me there". If you want to believe it go ahead, (and know that I sell an old stadium in the center of Rome, if you pay cash the fountain is free). In short, let's understand: but what else do you think happens in a party literally organized by the mafia ?
2. we are talking about the top of the top of "rich & fashion & cool" in Milan, Rome, Paris and other places. I repeat: less than one per thousand of the population. To enter there you have to be so fashionable and so cool and so rich that in fact there is no danger that you will end up in it by chance or because "he brings me a friend". You enter those places, if you are a girl, after an escalation of p0mp1ni and gangbang in some private beach, that's half enough. No one enters that place as a virgin, no one ends up there by chance, no one can say they don't know what happens. After all, the same victim of Genovese admits that they naturally offered her a tray of coke, and she (as if it were normal) admits to having sucked her off. But yes, let's go half-naked modeling in a den of horny violent cocaine addicts, and let's go fuck ourselves. It's just cocaine, what could possibly go wrong?
3. the rules of the game are known. In the world of the rich either you are someone or you are owned by someone . If you enter there as a "model", that is, for your body, you know very well that your body is someone's property. The girls of the agencies hang out, talk, tell, and if by now (as it has been happening for several years) the fetish of the cocaine addict is the fist * ng, you know very well that if they decide to "throw you the party", you get an arm in the c *the. End. Seeing these complaining is like seeing someone walking onto the pitch dressed as a Rugby player, knowing the rules of Rugby, and then complaining that the other team is rude. Yes, they are rough. It is called, in fact, Rugby. Those are parties organized by the mafia, populated by aspiring Briatore (arrogant and arrogant) high on coke, who want to have sex to have extreme sex as they see doing in the p0rno they watch. What did you expect, to dance the minuet?

Why am I in such a tough position? I'll make a comparison, in fact I'll give you two.

These festivals (and related scandals) are justified by the social need to "make the hamster run in the wheel". Today's society, that is, cannot democratize pleasure. If the rich man stops doing what you dream of doing (but you can't), you have no reason to kill yourself at work dreaming of being at one of those parties . If you want the hamster to run in the wheel, you have to make him dream that if he runs enough he will be able to do "forbidden things". And st * pr * today is the MOST forbidden thing, it has also overcome pedophilia, or the parapedophilia of young girls who seem even younger.

Here comes the comparison: “the private club for swinger couples”. Once upon a time, if you wanted to fist * ng, you either went to a swingers club and looked for the couple who loved it, or you placed an ad for a partner who had the same tastes. Very democratic. Little exclusive. Little forbidden, the partner has fun. And therefore all in all “stuff that even the poor man can do”.

Well, private clubs for swinger couples are massacred with "police visits" and bulletin boards are closed all the time. Nothing happens to the various "feeling terrace". Do you know why'? Because when the hamster has a full belly it doesn't run anymore. He has everything he wanted. He can already do what he dreams of or what he sees in p0rno movies. The hamster doesn't run anymore. Society persecutes any attempt to democratize forbidden pleasures, because if they are not reserved for the rich, no hamster will race to get rich.

the first thing to understand is that every now and then one of these "feeling terraces" must emerge in the news, because there are no longer any private people in discos to sanction "we are us and we do things that you are too poor to do " .

Let's go to a second example. I happened (but not as a bouncer) to join some German BDSM clubs. Only Germans, because if you have seen a real dungeon you understand that in Italy there is NO real BDSM environment. Checche 'some Italian "fifty smokers" say on social media.

In a dungeon there is a dungeon master, whose job is to check that no one is exaggerating, that no one gets hurt, that no one takes drugs (it is very dangerous if the slave does not notice the pain actually felt) and even the popper. (which serves to expand better) is seen with some suspicion and tolerated only in the RACK. But in general dungeon masters are also forbidden, just to avoid "the after". I mean, having to call the ambulance for an out-of-control prolapse.

In the dungeons you get to the level of "extreme" that the cocaine addict dreams of, only the cocaine addict is not allowed . They are exclusive places (in Düsseldorf there is only one, and the city has a density of not just millionaires) due to the cost of the card (and / or the knowledge they need) and due to the cost of clothing / equipment required. Well. Where's the confrontation? I make the comparison to say two things. If we want to get out of the “pop” world, of democratic pleasure, we can do it. But let's talk about something that people do NOT want to show to the poorest. In the sense that the mayor of the neighboring city (of a big city) may meet the CEO of a large company, and the aristocratic sense of exclusivity does not consist in showing the poor that they are not there, but in throwing them out on the serious . You can't find the club even if you google “like a pro”, it's not on any list, the same card doesn't exist materially: enter if you are on a list.

unlike the new rich, the rich do not want to be seen by the poor, they derive exclusivity only from seeing that they are together with other rich people. They seek membership, not redeem it.

What I mean? I mean that Terrazza Sentimento serves, once again, to make the hamster run. If I talk on TV about the private parties of people who are already very rich, perhaps for generations, the hamster does not run: it gives up. Anyway, even if you work like a madman, if your dad was a clerk in there you don't get it. Give up and enjoy life.

But Terrazza Sentimento was not just an "exclusive" place because there are the rich and very rich: it is because there are the rich "self-made" ones. There are hamsters who have made it . You will NEVER hear about these st * pri if they happen in a club of REAL rich people, those for generations, those who have lived in Coppede 'in Rome since the time of their grandfather, (that the pariolini are beggars in comparison). There are two visions of exclusivity: that of the rich-rich for generations, who mean "the privilege of being there" in recognizing each other in a place without crowds, and that of the new rich, for whom "the privilege of being there" coincides with the "you dream of entering but you cannot enter": in short, "I am the hamster that won". The real rich Italian has never raced in the wheel, it is not the hamster that has won.

The problem of Italy and the modern West is that many hamsters have the balls to run in the wheel. Since the social elevators have stopped, they have given up running, so it is useless. Since pleasure, if you want, today you can also find it "down to earth", they have stopped running also because they do not understand what is "best" in one of these parties.

They have already tried to make them run with poverty and precariousness, and it didn't work: they only got a gigantic series of “neets”, that is, hamsters who gave up running. They tried to make them run with a ferocious persecution of swingers clubs, BDSM clubs (in Italy by now there are almost no more and even those of before … bah), with a repression never seen against the most transgressive clubs and even the "Nightlife". It did not work. The hamster is giving up on running the wheel even so.

it is necessary every now and then to point out to hamsters that if they run long enough they can go somewhere and stick an arm in the ass of a nineteen-year-old model, who is submissive to their power to the point that she suffers but endures just to stay there.

This is “feeling terrace”: maybe it really happened that she was the only idiot who didn't know what that party was. Maybe she got there thanks to the friend they "had the party" on a beach in Ibiza, but she never explained the thing about the arm in the c * lo. Maybe it was all new to her. I'm not saying it didn't happen, on the contrary: it happened to ALL the girls who were in that place. And it's happening in other similar places and will happen again. I'm saying the complaint could have gone to the papers or not, and someone said yes. And he did it for a reason .

The event ended up in the newspapers for a specific purpose:

the hamster has to run again, or the economy collapses.

There needs to be a goal in people's minds, to make them run like hamsters. If they do not dream of entering a vipz place where they are superior to others and can do things that are forbidden to others, hamsters will fuck you, your wheel, and go to have a barbecue with friends.

You have to show all the Italian hamsters that if they run enough they can go (like Genovese who runs a lot) to parties like the VIPz, where they huff like the vipz and drink champagne (or prosecco, which says a lot), and have a party to girls who would give the c * lo just to be in their august company: the sense of absolute power. We must delude the hamster that he too could be there, as Silvio did with his parties and as Vanzina did with his films: run, hamster, run, that if you run enough maybe you too will arrive in our world.

If this scandal did not exist, it would have to be invented, because we are in the middle of an emergency, which is called this:

the hamster has the balls to run.

Terrazza Sentimento is nothing more than the successor of a Vanzina Cinepanettone, only that it is shot in the time of cocaine, and lazy hamsters. Once it was Vanzina who made the hamster run, with his films. The hamster that made the 80s and 90s great has to see something, so he can start running again. But the things of the past are no longer enough, Dagospia is not enough, Vanzina is no longer enough.

Today we need stronger stories.

Do you want to know how it will end? Eventually there will be more and more, and there will also be st * pr *. Why'?

• because the new rich, and the rich, love to think that they are above the law and that they can do what is forbidden to peons. If now with the metoo the st * pr * is the new taboo, at parties it will become normal the st * pr * to make you understand that you peons of shit if you st * pr * a girl you go to jail, while they do it and since they are “Arrived” the girls also thank them for letting him touch their august cock.
• because where before there was para-pedophilia (young girls who look like minors) now the absolute evil is the st * pr *. So if Epstein used to party you with the fourteen-year-olds, now the rich, to feel above the rules of the peons, will switch to st * pr *. And to let the hamster know that if he runs he can finally go to parties and do the forbidden thing too, it will take more scandals.

And the only way to stop this trend isn't to call the police.

The hamsters, once and for all, stop. Totally.