Does it seem to you that we have written about Piero and Gianluca a lot lately? It’s true we have! There’s a reason for that. I don’t much like that other one. Don’t be angry, please, but the young guy is a clown who’s going to break his neck jumping off high things like concert stages, stairs, piano’s, etc. That crazy lad likes to drive and ride all kinds of stuff including Planes, horses, race cars, Vespa’s, Harley’s, and homemade mini-bikes to name just a few.
He even recently tried to play on our sympathies with his arm in a sling… Saving a kid by wrenching his own shoulder. I didn’t buy that phony maneuver.
He tries to play a multitude of instruments… Some very badly. Did you hear him on that saxophone? Yikes! And with poor Gianluca trying to sing!
He loves dogs, kids and his mom (Eww, grow up fella).
Some people think he’s all that and handsome in black. Not me! Plus he’s covered with tattoos and not one of them has my name on it. (I know I said one did, but I lied.)
He isn’t an American! He’s Italian. He speaks Italian. He eats Italian. He breathes Italian air. He even sings with an Italian accent…Is that suppose to be romantic or something?
And now he thinks he’s in love and it isn’t with me?
He’s really nothing but a tall, nicely built, hairy kind of guy who can sort of sing. Truthfully I can hardly stand to look at him or listen to him. I can barely tolerate being around him at a M&G or in my dreams…I mean nightmares. So that’s why we don’t often write about whats-his-name.