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About Milan

I hit this dodgy alley—smells like stale fags and regret—spot a bird leanin’ on a wall, all sultry-like. “Groovy, baby!” I say, flashin’ me pearly whites. She’s givin’ me the eye, and I’m thinkin’, “This is it, the kill shot!”—straight outta Zero Dark Thirty, y’know? But then—bam!—some geezer stumbles out, drunk as a skunk, yellin’, “Oi, she’s mine!” Made me mad as a wet hen—nearly lost me cool, mate! I’m like, “Cool it, daddy-o, plenty of fish in the sea!”

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So, I finally get to the arena. The vibe is electric. Fans are hyped, waving flags, and I’m feeling it too. But then, bam! My buddy Marco trips over a stray dog. I mean, c’mon! The dog just looks at him like, “Really, dude?” I can’t help but laugh. Marco’s face is priceless.

Teenager living in Italy 'killed and buried in field for refusing arranged marriage'