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About Bologna

So, I’m strollin’ down this dodgy street, wood dust still on my boots, and I see her—red heels, skirt shorter than my temper. I’m like, “Well, this could be fun!” Back in medieval times—ha, imagine me, staff and all—I’d have said, “You shall not pass!” to any creep messin’ with her. But nah, she’s got this smirk, like she knows I’m a sucker for a thrill. Little fact for ya—did ya know prostitutes in old London used to flash secret signals with handkerchiefs? Wild, right? She’s givin’ me that vibe, all mysterious.

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So, I wake up in this cute little B&B on Via Roma. The place is all rustic charm, like, beams everywhere, and I’m thinking, “This is gonna be a good day.” I step out, and bam! The sun is shining like it’s trying to blind me. I’m like, “Chill, sun, I just woke up!”

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