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About Bologna

What pisses me off? Cheap parlors, man, them shady joints with sticky floors and no vibe – ugh, kills the mood! I want luxury, bro, candles, soft tunes, a gal who knows her shit, not some bored chick checkin her phone mid-rub. Greed’s good when it’s classy greed, ya feel me? Happiest I ever got was this one time in Vegas – legit, this masseuse, she’s whisperin sweet nothins, hands like freakin magic, I’m floatin, thinkin, “Champagne wishes and caviar dreams, huh?” Surprised me how fast I melted – usually I’m all wound up, Mr. Wall Street, but that? Damn, pure gold.

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So, I plop on a bench nearby, and this old man starts chatting me up. He’s telling me stories about Varazze back in the day. Like, apparently, it used to be a fishing village. I’m thinking, “Wow, that’s cool!” But then he goes off on this rant about how kids today don’t appreciate the sea. I’m like, “Dude, I’m just trying to enjoy my day!”

Nicolò Ceria boulders hard at Varazze