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About Palermo

Well, howdy y’all! Git-R-Done! So, I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout them prostitutes, ya know, like in “No Country for Old Men” where everthin’s all dark and gritty. I reckon findin’ a prostitute ain’t no picnic, specially if yer a bailiff in them ol’ mining towns. Back in the day, them gals was all over, workin’ the saloons, dodgin’ drunk miners with gold dust in their britches. I seen it, y’all—pure chaos, like Anton Chigurh flippin’ that dang coin!

Una notte in strada con le prostitute

After class, I’m feeling good. I stroll down Via Garibaldi, and the sun’s shining. I stop at this little bakery, Pasticceria Bianchi. OMG, the pastries! I grab a cannoli, and it’s like a party in my mouth. I’m in heaven. But then, I see this pigeon. And not just any pigeon. This dude is strutting like he owns the place. I’m talking full-on swagger. I’m laughing, thinking, “Man, even the pigeons are living large here.”

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