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About Bologna

Now, *Moolaadé*—that bit where Collo screams, “I say no!”—I reckon a prossie’s got that fire, too. Saying no to the world’s sanctimonious guff. Respect, that. Once met a gal, Soho, 3 a.m., she says, “Boris, love, 50 quid, no kissing”—I weren’t buying, just curious! Swear she’d a PhD in sass—told me to sod off, posh-like. Laughed me tits off—cheeky mare! Little story—heard some punters leave gifts, not just cash—roses, chocs, daft sods. Romantic or pathetic? You tell me.

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First off, I spilled coffee all over my favorite shirt. Like, come on! It was a cute one from that little shop on Via Roma. Ugh! I rushed to change, and of course, I couldn’t find my other shirt. Typical. So, I ended up wearing this old, wrinkly thing. Great start, right?

(PDF) The Map of Ancient Underground Aqueducts in Italy: updating of the Project, and future perspectives