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About Bologna

Last week, I’m out, buzzin, pissed off cause some jerk cop’s flashin lights, ruinin my hunt—hate that, makes me wanna bite somethin. Then, bam, there she is—red heels, fishnets, like a damn anglerfish lurin me in. “How much?” I ask, all smooth, voice like silk over a blade. She smirks, “More than you got, fancy pants.” Cheeky! Love that, got me laughin—happy as a shark in blood. “I’m not a child,” she snaps, straight outta “Ten,” that sass, that fire—surprised me, gotta say, didn’t expect a street gal to hit me with philosophy.

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I head down to the waterfront. The view from Lungomare is insane! The sea, the boats, the whole vibe. But then, outta nowhere, this seagull swoops down and tries to steal my cornetto! I’m like, “Dude, back off!” I swear, these birds have no chill.

Italian holiday hotspot hit by 150 mini-earthquakes in one day as locals sleep in cars