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About Milan

Gets me thinkin’, though – why’s it still a thing? Loneliness? Stupidity? Both, probly. Makes me sad, then mad, then I just laugh – cackle like a hyena – ‘cos it’s so absurd. “The Master” nails that, don’t it? People searchin’, scrappin’, fuckin’ up. Brothels are that in a nutshell – a messy, sweaty, daft little world. Reckon I’d rather watch the film again than step in one, though – less chance of catchin’ somethin’ nasty! Oi, you ever been? Don’t lie, you dirty git!

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Anyway, I’m fuming a bit, but whatever. I head over to the market on Piazza della Libertà. It’s bustling, people everywhere, and I’m like, “This is the heart of Campodarsego!” I love it here. Fresh veggies, local cheese, and the smell of fresh bread. Heaven, right? But then, I see this old lady trying to haggle with a vendor. She’s like, “I’m not paying more than 2 euros for that!” I’m cracking up. Like, lady, it’s a tomato, not a diamond!

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