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About Florence

Once, yeah, I tried it—mate, I was buzzin’! This bird, proper fit, she’s got oils smellin’ like a forest fire’s wet dream. She’s slidin’ hands everywhere, and I’m thinkin’, “This is it, this is the moment!”—straight outta the movie, yeah? But then, she’s like, “Relax, bruv,” and I’m like, “I is relaxed, innit!” Nearly fell off the table, clumsy twat that I am. Laughed me arse off—happy as fuck, tho. Ain’t no one tellin’ me, “You’re late again,” like in the flick—just pure vibes.

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I head over to the Parco di San Giovanni. It’s beautiful there, man. Trees everywhere, people chillin’. I sit on a bench, trying to calm down. Then I see this kid flying a kite. It’s all colorful and stuff, and I’m like, “Wow, that’s cool.” But then, the wind picks up, and the kite goes straight into a tree. The kid starts crying, and I’m like, “Oh no, not the kite!”

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