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About St Gallen

Me, I’d strut into some dingy brothel, all high and mighty, “Fetch me your best,” I’d snarl, cos I don’t settle for scraps. Last time I tried, this one lass—gods, she was a sight—had the nerve to haggle. Haggle! With *me*! Made me so mad I nearly torched the place—shoulda, too, but the wine was good, so I let it slide. “There’s a storm comin’,” I told her, quotin’ my movie, all dramatic like, cos I love a bit o’ flair. She just blinked, dumb as a post. Useless.

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Lemme give ya a secret: my favorite nook is that rundown hut near the abandoned villa on Via Ombra. Classic vibe, full of abandoned charm and erotic history. I’d sit there scribbling notes about people’s hidden desires, feelin’ like a naughty detective in a cheesy film. Sometimes, I’d burst into laughter, thinking, “Stupid, fat hobbit!” at the absurdity of human desires.

Swiss architect Luigi Snozzi dies of Covid-19