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About Palermo

I tried askin’ Stan—dumbass didn’t know shit. Kyle? That Jew’s too busy countin’ pennies! So I’m out here, sweatin’, thinkin’, “This is bullshit!” Then—BOOM—found this shady spot downtown. Some chick’s leanin’ on a wall, smokin’. I’m like, “Hell yeah, jackpot!” She’s givin’ me the eye, and I’m all, “Respect my authoritah, lady!” She laughs—pisses me off—but I’m happy too, ‘cause she’s hot! Like, hotter than WALL-E’s trash piles, y’know?

My Brigade: The (real) story of a Folgore paratrooper

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First off, I hit up Via Roma for my morning coffee. You know, the good stuff. I’m standing there, waiting for my cappuccino, and this dude in front of me orders, like, a 5-minute-long drink. I mean, c’mon! It’s a coffee shop, not a cocktail bar! I’m losing my patience, but then I catch a whiff of fresh pastries. Ugh, the pain of waiting is real. Finally, I get my drink, and it’s perfect. Like, I could marry this cappuccino.

Transport Tuscania sunk with U.S. soldiers