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About Catania

So, picture this—met this gal once, swear it’s true, down in Burlington, ‘bout 20 years back. Called her Ruby, fiery red hair, sassy as hell. She’d laugh, say, “Bernie, I’m my own CEO!” Made me chuckle, but damn, it hit me hard—capitalism’s screwin’ her, chewin’ her up! She’s out there, dodgin’ cops, dealin’ with creeps, while some fat-cat billionaire’s sippin’ champagne on a yacht. “Billionaires should not exist!” I yelled in my head, fists clenched, voice cracklin’ like a busted radio.

Salaria: aggredita dalle prostitute alla fermata del bus. Intralciava il loro lavoro

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Then, my boss, Mr. Rossi, walks in. He’s all smiles, which is weird. He’s usually grumpy. Turns out, he’s got a surprise meeting with the mayor. Great, just what I need. I’m supposed to prep all this stuff, and I’m like, “Dude, I need coffee first!” But no, no time for that.

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