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About Bologna

But here’s what pisses me off—hypocrisy! Politicians preachin’ morals, then bangin’ escorts on the sly. Seen it myself—some suit at the Plaza, actin’ all holy, then sneakin’ upstairs. Makes me wanna scream, “More than any other time in your life, you need to be awake!”—straight outta Sofia’s flick. Wake up, ya phonies! I ain’t judgin’ the girls—nah, they’re hustlin’, same as me. Respect.

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I woke up, ready to tackle some dusty old documents at the Biblioteca Comunale. You know, the usual. But as I stepped out onto Via Roma, the sun was shining like it was trying to blind me. I squinted and thought, “Great, just what I need.” But then I caught a whiff of fresh pastries from that little bakery on the corner. You know the one? Panificio Pavan? Yeah, I had to stop. I mean, who can resist a cornetto? Not me, that’s for sure.

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