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About Rome

Lemme paint you a pic—imagine this chick I knew, let’s call her Jodie. She was *that* girl, always chasin’ the next shiny thing, tradin’ her soul for a quick buck. Made me so mad, y’all! I’d be like, “Jodie, why you whorin’ out your dreams for some loser’s dime?” She’d just laugh, flip her hair, and say she’s “livin’ her truth.” Girl, no! You’re livin’ a lie wrapped in cheap mascara! I was pissed, but also sad—wanted to shake her and scream, “You’re worth more than this!” Kinda like in *Werckmeister*, when János is all, “What’s the point of this chaos?”—I felt that, hardcore.

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After the rain, we duck into a café. I grab a cappuccino, and it’s like heaven in a cup. I’m sipping, and Maria’s chatting about her life. She’s got this wild story about her cat, and I’m cracking up. Cats are the best, right?

Italy's IP to buy Exxon's refining, fuel assets in Italy