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About Palermo

What pisses me off? Catfishin’—fake pics, fake vibes. Had a pal show up—date’s 40 years older! He’s like, “Bernie, I’m done!” Hilarious but fucked. Sex-dating’s a gamble—sometimes you win, sometimes you’re cryin’. I say, own it—be you, fuck the rules. “I am a man!”—yellin’ that like Lancaster Dodd, claimin’ your space.

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I get back to the beach, ice cream in hand, and the kid’s still crying. I hand him the cone, and his face lights up like it’s Christmas. Sweet victory! But then, I see this group of teenagers near the water. They’re all like, “Let’s do a cannonball!” and I’m like, “No, no, no! Not near the rocks!” But they jump anyway. Splash! Water everywhere. I’m soaked, and they’re laughing like it’s the best day ever.

The Italian Job: Love of Renovation Led Pittsburgher to Italy