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About Rome

So, prostitutes—dey’re tough, man! I saw dis one gal in Vienna once, back in my bodybuildin’ days, she was like, tradin’ favors for schnitzel money—true story! Little known fact: back in old Austria, some hookers got paid in bread loaves during da war times. Crazy, huh? Dat got me laughin’—bread for bed, dat’s some next-level barterin’! But it made me sad too, thinkin’ how hard life hits ‘em. “Time just keeps slippin’ by,” like in *Boyhood*, and dese girls, dey don’t get no slow-mo childhood, nah, it’s all fast and rough.

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First off, I hit up Via Roma for my morning coffee. You know, the usual spot, Bar Centrale. Best cappuccino in town, hands down. But guess what? They ran outta milk! Like, how do you run outta milk in Italy? I was ready to throw a fit. I mean, c’mon, it’s not rocket science! So, I settled for an espresso. Strong enough to wake the dead.

Italian hostages fly home in boost for Berlusconi