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About Bari

But lemme tell ya, it ain’t all funny. Some dude told me—swear to god—bout a brothel in Nevada where they got “theme rooms.” Pirate ships, disco vibes—what the hell? Surprised me how wild it gets. I’m sittin’ there, jaw droppin’, thinkin’, “This country’s gone nuts!” Billionaires should not exist, fundin’ this crap while kids starve! Makes me wanna scream, “I’m not locked up with you, you’re locked up with me!”—y’know, like Monty’s rage, but at capitalism!

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We hop in the car, and I’m trying to keep it chill. But then, we hit the streets. Oh boy. Rosarno’s roads are like a rollercoaster. We’re cruising down Via Nazionale, and suddenly, this old man on a bike swerves right in front of us! I slam the brakes. “What the heck, man?!” I yell. Marco’s eyes are like saucers.

The Spada of Ostia and the Bellocco clan of Rosarno "twin" in prison