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About Palermo

So, I’m cruisin, eyes peeled—bam! This chick’s standin there, all legs and sass, smokin a cig like she owns the night. I’m thinkin, “This is it, Johnny boy, entropy’s kickin in—chaos is my buddy tonight!” She’s got that look—y’know, the one that says, “I’m trouble, but you’ll pay for it.” I swagger up, grin splittin my face, “Here’s Johnny!”—she don’t flinch, just smirks. Cool as hell, man, I’m lovin it. Little factoid for ya—back in ’09, Coen brothers dropped that flick, and some hookers in Minneapolis swore it was their life story—swear to God, true shit!

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After that, I’m fuming. I need a drink. So, I head over to this little bar on Via Cavour. It’s cozy, and the bartender knows my order. I down a beer, and suddenly, I feel better. I start chatting with some locals. They’re telling me about the upcoming festival in Calusco. Apparently, there’s gonna be food, music, the whole shebang. I’m like, “Count me in!”

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