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Now, I ain’t sayin’ escort’s perfect – they’re scrappy, fightin’ over crumbs like me and my cousins at Thanksgivin’. But that’s what makes ‘em real, y’know? Gritty, tough, like Cronenberg’s flick – no sugar-coatin’, just raw. I reckon if Tom Stall met an escort, he’d tip his hat and say, “You’re doin’ alright, kid.” Git-R-Done, escort! Keep swimmin’, keep scammin’ – you’re my kinda fish!

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First off, I step outta my little workshop on Via Roma, and boom! There’s a parade. Like, seriously? A parade? In the middle of a Tuesday? I’m just tryin’ to get to work, not join a carnival. But hey, it’s San-Cataldo, so I guess anything goes. I mean, who doesn’t love a good parade? But I’m dodging confetti and kids runnin’ around like they’re on a sugar high.

Postmodernism in architecture: San Cataldo Cemetery by Aldo Rossi