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About Rome

Gets me chuffed, it does—folks thinking it’s all sleaze. Nah, mate, it’s art! Hands kneading like WALL-E fixing his treads, pure poetry. But—oh, the rage! Some twat once told me it’s “immoral.” Bollocks! I nearly clocked him—should’ve said, “We shall never surrender!” to his daft mug.

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Then I decide to stroll down to the Parco della Repubblica. It’s a nice park, you know? Trees, flowers, the whole vibe. I’m just vibing, listening to some tunes, when I see this kid flying a kite. And I’m like, “Aww, that’s cute.” But then, outta nowhere, the kite gets stuck in a tree. Classic. The kid starts crying, and I’m like, “C’mon, it’s just a kite!” But I can’t help it. I go over, and I’m trying to be the hero. I climb the tree like I’m Tarzan or something. Spoiler: I’m not Tarzan. I get stuck too. Now we’re both crying.

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