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About Catania

I see dis one gal—proper fit, lips redder than a slapped arse. I’m like, “Oi, love, how’s it hangin’?” She’s givin’ me the eye, sussin’ me out. Reminds me of Lancaster Dodd screamin’, “You can’t tame what’s wild!”—and bruv, she’s wild as fuck. I’m thinkin’, shit, dis could be a laugh or a total mare. Last time I tried dis, some geezer rolled up, all aggro, shoutin’ she’s his. Got me ragin’—I ain’t here for drama, just a quick shag!

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I get there, and the whole street is buzzing. People are filming it like it’s some reality show. I’m like, “Guys, it’s just a cat!” But nooo, they’re all “Save Mr. Whiskers!” I climb up this tree on Via Garibaldi, and let me tell ya, I’m not exactly a mountain goat. I’m sweating like crazy, and the crowd is cheering. I finally grab him, and he’s just chillin’, like, “What’s the fuss?” I’m like, “Dude, you’re the drama queen here!”

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