November 14th, 2011



Another birthday, caro mio! Hopefully you're not spending it with piccolo Niccolo.

Now that my leadership has once again been spurned (thanks in good measure to caro Nicolas and his German innamorata Angela), I am free, free as the birds in the heavens. The country will soon cry out for me, but I won't listen. I long to see you, caro. I long to touch you and make you gasp and cry out with delight. You know that all the farfalle have meant nothing to me. I send white roses only to you. When can we meet?
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