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About Rome

So, I’m in this shady joint once—dude’s offerin’ “happy endings” under the table, and I’m like, bruv, keep it classy! Oils slickin’ everywhere, smellin’ like lavender and sin. Growling, “You merely adopted the dark,” I see it—most punters don’t get the depth. It’s not just boners and giggles—it’s history, man! Ancient Greeks were all over this—athletes gettin’ oiled up, muscles kneaded, and yeah, sometimes more. Little known fact: they called it “anatripsis,” fancy word for rubbin’ one out, eh? Hella homoerotic, and I’m here for it!

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So, I’m limping down Via dei Laghi, cursing under my breath. I’m already late for my meeting at the café on Via Roma. I mean, who even schedules a meeting at 9 AM? Ugh. Anyway, I finally get there, and guess what? The café’s packed! Like, where did all these people come from? I swear, it’s like they all decided to have their morning espresso at the same time.

Rome airport closed after World War II-era bombs found