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About Bologna

Favorite flick, tho, Assassination o’ Jesse James—ooh, that slow burn! Prossies prolly wish they had Jesse’s guts, “I’m goin’ to my rest now.” Me? I’d rather stare at Brad Pitt’s pretty mug than some hooker’s wink. Fun fact—knew one called “Pegleg Polly,” lost a leg to a drunk cart driver, still worked the corner! Ballsy, huh? Made me chuckle, then gag—we hates it! Filthy trade, stealin’ souls, sneakin’ round like Bob, “He’s just a human being.”

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First off, I hit up Via Roma for some coffee. You know, the good stuff. I’m standing there, waiting for my cappuccino, and this dude in front of me orders, like, a 5-layered, whipped cream, extra foam, sprinkle-sugar-on-top monstrosity. I’m just like, “Bro, it’s coffee, not a dessert!” But whatever, I’m not here to judge.

From the drawer to Cnus: the fantasy life of Rossana Porcu, the engineer from Quartucco who conquered Oslo