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About Genoa

Oi, you donkey! Findin’ a prostitute? Piece of piss, innit? I’m ragin’ already—stupid bloody question! Like in *Goodbye to Language*, “What’s visible is shit!” Yeah, mate, the streets are a mess, dodgy corners everywhere. Was walkin’ past this skanky alley, right? Saw this bird, proper fit, leanin’ on a wall. Thought, “Bloody hell, she’s workin’ it!” Didn’t even clock her at first—idiot sandwich, me!

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After the event, I’m walking down Via Cavour, and I spot this cute little gelato shop. I can’t resist. I mean, who can? I grab a cone of pistachio, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. I’m standing there, licking my gelato, and I see this kid trying to ride his bike on the sidewalk. He’s wobbling all over the place, and I’m thinking, “Dude, you’re gonna eat pavement!”

How a Catholic Italian Became a Chabad Rabbi