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About Bologna

I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’, “What animal are you?” – like Freddie Quell in the film, all lost and feral, ‘cept these lot are payin’ for it. Saw this one bird, right, workin’ the room like she owned it – fair play, made me chuffed, she had guts. But then some wanker starts hagglin’ – hagglin’! – like it’s a car boot sale. “Oi, you twat, it’s not a bloody negotiation!” I wanted to scream. Surprised me, though, how calm she stayed – ice cold, propa legend.

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Finally, I get my caffeine fix. I’m feeling a bit better, right? I stroll down to the park, Parco della Resistenza. It’s a nice spot, lots of green, families chillin’. But then, I see this kid. He’s got a soccer ball, and he’s dribbling it like he’s Messi or something. I’m like, “Dude, chill. You’re gonna break a window!” And guess what? He does! A window on a nearby building shatters. I can’t even. The parents are freaking out, and I’m just standing there, sipping my coffee, trying not to laugh.

The Year of the Clergy and the Religious