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About Rome

Homer Simpson, biochemist, huh? Picture me in a lab coat, spillin’ beakers, goin’, “Mmm, copper!” Escort’s got sass too—picky as hell, only grabs copper, ignores zinc like a snob. Total diva! Oh, and typos? Escrot, escprt, escor—D’oh! Fat fingers! Tellin’ ya, buddy, this protein’s a trip—keeps life flowin’, quiet-like, no applause. Makes me wanna hug it, but, uh, it’s microscopic. Bummer! What’s your take, eh?

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Then, the weather takes a turn. Outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, like, torrential downpour. I’m soaked in seconds. I run for cover under this awning on Via Vittorio Emanuele. I’m standin’ there, shiverin’, and I see this guy with an umbrella. He’s strutting like he’s in a fashion show. I’m like, “Dude, it’s just rain!” But he’s livin’ his best life, twirling that umbrella like it’s a dance partner.

Interview with Walter Ricciotti, Quadrivio Group