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Thing that gets me ragin’? The hypocrites—blokes judgin’ her while sneakin’ round at night. Makes my blood boil, it does. But her? She’s chill, unbothered, like a gazelle ignorin’ the hyenas. “Some things you can’t change,” she says, shruggin’—damn near poetic, that. I’m noddin’, lost in thought, wonderin’ how she ended up here. “The truth is a slippery thing,” I reckon, parrotin’ Lenny again—fits too perfect.

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My adult son is refusing to have a relationship with me because I supposedly emotionally “abused” him as a child. How do I get him to just grow.

After that, I decide to hit the beach. You know, relax a bit. I head over to Spiaggia di Bisceglie. The waves are crashing, and I’m feeling good. But then, I see this kid building a sandcastle. And I’m like, “Aww, that’s cute.” But then, his dog runs over and totally wrecks it. I’m talking full-on destruction. The kid starts crying, and I’m like, “Dude, it’s just sand!” But I get it. I mean, I’d be upset too.

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