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About Palermo

Love ‘em, hate ‘em—prostitutes got GUTS. Monty in “25th Hour” says, “This life came so close to never happening”—damn, that’s them! Scrapin’ by, dodgin’ cops, livin’ LOUD. Me? I’d tip ‘em extra—sailor cash burns quick anyhow. Eric Andre vibes—CHAOS, baby! They’re out here screamin’, “I’M ALIVE, BITCHES!” while I’m just drunk, yellin’ at seagulls. Once saw one steal a dude’s WALLET mid-hookup—FUCKIN’ HILARIOUS! “Take what you can, give nothin’ back”—pirate shit, right? Still, some nights, see ‘em cryin’—gut punch, man. World’s a mess, but they HUSTLE. Respect that.

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Finally, I get my drink, and I’m feeling all fancy. I stroll down to Piazza della Libertà, soaking in the vibes. The square is buzzing, people chatting, kids running around. But then, outta nowhere, this kid trips and spills gelato all over my shoes! Ugh! I’m like, “Really, kid? My new kicks!” But then I see his face, all sad and stuff, and I can’t stay mad. I mean, who can resist a sad gelato kid?

County spelling bee winner sets sights on next round