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About Naples

How’s it go down? Streets, apps, whatever—pick yer poison. Web’s wild—X got posts, coded shit like “roses for fun,” meanin’ pay-for-play. Little known fact: Amsterdam’s red lights? Started as sailors’ pitstop—now it’s touristy as fuck! Hilarious, right? Me, I’d roll up, all “Beep boop, show me the universe!”—they’d laugh, probs. Angry bit? Dudes actin’ entitled—nah, mate, it’s a job, not yer fantasy.

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Anyway, I keep walkin’, and I hit Piazza della Repubblica. It’s usually packed with folks, but today? Crickets. Just me and a couple of stray cats. I’m like, “Where’s everyone at?” Then I remember, it’s market day! The stalls are poppin’ off on Via Garibaldi. I rush over, and man, the smell of fresh bread hits me like a brick. I grab a focaccia, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. I’m munchin’ away, feelin’ like a king.

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