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About Florence

Oi, so you wanna hear bout prostitutes, eh? Well, sit yer arse down, mate, coz I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, and I’ve got thoughts—cold disdain, “I choose violence,” y’know? Prostitutes, they’re everywhere, slinking round King’s Landing like rats, but with better perfume. Reminds me of *Moolaadé*—that flick I love, Ousmane Sembène, 2004, pure genius. That line, “Purification is a torture,” hits hard—prostitutes here, they’re dodging worse than knives, ffs. Society’s all “shame, shame,” but I say, let ‘em live, ya prudes!

Viaggio tra la prostituzione di via Ardeatina, alle porte di Albano

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I take a breather, grab a slice of pizza from Pizzeria Da Marco. Best pizza ever, by the way. I’m munching on this slice, and it’s like a slice of heaven. I’m feeling better, but then I get a call from my buddy, Luca. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta come to this concert tonight!” I’m like, “What concert?” Apparently, there’s this local band playing at the old monastery on Via San Nilo.

Vibrational spectroscopy to study ancient Roman funerary practices at the “Hypogeum of the Garlands” (Italy)