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About Bologna

*heavy breath* I am your father—so I notice shit. Like in *Toni Erdmann*—“Who are you really?” That line? Haunts me. Ask that to a prossie—deep, right? Are they playin’ a role? Mask on, like me? Gets ya thinkin’. Once met this chick—tattooed zabrak, horns and all. Swear she charged double ‘cause I’m Vader. Pissed me off—ripped off by a tart! But damn, she was good—happy vibes after. Surprised me—thought I’d choke her out, but nah.

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Gruppo donatori di sangue, plasma e piastrine. Sezione Monteroni di Lecce 󱚸.

After the hair drama, I had to rush to the market. The Mercato di Monteroni is my fave spot. Fresh produce, local cheeses, and oh, the pastries! I was on a mission for some pasticciotti. But guess what? They were sold out! I was like, “Are you kidding me?!” I could’ve cried.

Contrasting metabolic strategies of two co-occurring deep-sea octocorals