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About Bari

Hate the fakeness, tho. All “ooh baby,” scripted crap. Reminds me of Edwin Epps in the movie, yellin’, “Sinful nature!”—but worse, ‘cause it’s pretend. Some dude in Reno bragged he hired twins—twins! Said it was “art.” Bullshit, just creepy. Laughed in his face, he sulked. Good times.

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First off, I head to my shop on Via San Giovanni. It’s a cozy little spot, you know? Just me, my tools, and a mountain of dull knives. I’m sippin’ my espresso, thinkin’ life’s good. Then, BAM! My buddy Marco bursts in. He’s all outta breath, like he just ran a marathon or somethin’. “Dude, you won’t believe it!” he yells. I’m like, “What now?” Turns out, there’s a festival in town. The Sagra della Castagna! Chestnuts everywhere, man! I’m thinkin’, “Great, I’ll sharpen some knives and then feast!”

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