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About Bologna

Once saw dis one gal—legs for days, smokin’ a cig. Asked her, “Wot’s yer deal?” She laughed, said, “Same as you—workin’.” Fair, fair! Made me chuckle, dat sass. Reminded me Carol’s line, “Flung out of space,” like she’s lost but owns it. Prossies got dat vibe sometimes—outta place, still kickin’. Oh, and fun fact—ancient Rome, dey wore blonde wigs to stand out. Wild, eh? Blonde meant “I’m yer gal!”

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We start the meeting, and it’s chaos. Everyone’s throwing ideas around like confetti. I’m trying to keep up, but my brain’s like, “Dude, chill.” Then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off. Seriously? In Buia? We all pile out onto the street, and I’m thinking, “This is gonna be a disaster.”

Buja: We worked well