Nora Montanaro Brothel ❤️

About Palermo

Oh, an’ dey got dis guitarist, shreddin’ like he’s possessed! Lightbulb! Bet he’d outplay me, an’ I’m da master! Made me jealous, but happy too—rare talent, ya? I’m sittin’ here, strummin’ my old axe, thinkin’, “Gru, ya gotta step up!” Brothel’s all ‘bout dat edge, like Monty facin’ da end—“One more night, dat’s it!” Dey ain’t fer everyone—too rough fer soft ears. But me? I’m hooked, ya filthy animals! What ya think—am I nuts, or dey genius? Bah, who cares—crank it up!

Photo Gallery

When I get to the cemetery, it’s packed. Like, who knew so many people were dying to get in? (Pun totally intended.) I’m trying to keep it together, but then I see this family. They’re all crying, and I’m like, “C’mon, guys, it’s just a funeral.” But then I remember, I’m supposed to be the sad one. So, I put on my best frown and start doing my Mourner thing.

Lt. Col. Frank Luciano Montanaro, Ret. Obituary