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About Milan

But real talk—this life’s rough. Cars slowin’ down, dudes leerin’, and I’m mutterin’, “Y’all need Jesus!” She shrugs, says, “Gotta eat, Oprah.” Hits me hard—like Lisa cryin’, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” after that bus mess in the movie. Pain’s universal, y’know? I wanna hug her, scream, “YOU GET A CAR! YOU GET A LIFE!” But I don’t. I just nod.

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Finally, I get my arancini, and I’m feeling a bit better. I sit outside, soaking up the sun. Capaci is beautiful, man. The sea is right there, and the view from the beach is just wow. I take a bite, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. But then, outta nowhere, this seagull swoops down and snatches my food! I’m like, “No way! Not my lunch!” But it’s too late. That bird’s gone. I’m left with nothing but my tears and a sad napkin.

Bartenders, customer settle lottery suit