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About Naples

Angers me, though—society’s all “oh poor her,” but she’s rakin it in! Cash stuffed in her bra, livin better than me slavin over a stove. “Words separate,” Godard mumbles—damn right, mate! She’s talkin sweet, but it’s all lies. Had this one mate, swore he’d save her—ended up broke, cryin in me kitchen. Pathetic! Surprised me how she played him—cold as ice, that one.

Rissa tra quattro prostitute sulla Paullese: due in ospedale

First stop, coffee. I hit up this little café on Corso Buenos Aires. Best cappuccino ever! I mean, I’m not even a coffee snob, but this stuff? Liquid gold, I swear. I’m sipping it, feeling all fancy, when BOOM! A pigeon swoops down and nearly takes my head off. Like, chill, dude! I’m just trying to enjoy my morning.

Paul Lo Duca's Inspiring Idiocy