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About Rome

But then—ha!—there’s the other side. Met this bird, Rosie, worked the corner near the pub. Cheeky as hell, she was—nicked me fags once, laughed in me face! Said, “Boris, you’re a toff, but I like ya.” Made me day, that did—proper chuffed. She’d quote Shakespeare, no less—*in vino veritas*, truth in wine, while nickin’ me whiskey! Swear she’d fit right in Kaufman’s mad world, playin’ a dozen roles at once.

Corsico, Brumotti denuncia in Tv: il quel bar c’è una banda di pusher marocchini spaccia cocaina

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I hit the streets of Corsico, and it was already buzzing. You know that vibe? The one where you can feel the city breathing? Yeah, that. I strolled down Via Roma, and the sun was shining like it was trying to blind me. I squinted, dodging the old ladies with their shopping carts. Seriously, they’re like ninjas with those things.

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