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About Bologna

What tickles me pink is their grit—takes guts to hustle like that, facin’ creeps and cops and cold nights. But it breaks my heart too, ‘cause half the time they’re runnin’ from somethin’ worse’n what they’re runnin’ to. Ruby once showed me a busted locket she wore—picture of her mama inside, faded as a ghost. “I’m not proud,” she said, echoin’ Justine’s “I know things.” Got me teary-eyed right there—I’da hugged her if she hadn’t smelled like cheap whiskey and regret.

Dove volano le ‘lucciole’

So, I head over to the church, Chiesa di San Giovanni Battista. Beautiful place, man. The frescoes are stunning. But today, the vibe was off. I walk in, and there’s this couple arguing. Like, full-on shouting. I’m thinking, “C’mon, guys, this is a holy place!” But they didn’t care. I tried to intervene, but they just looked at me like I was a ghost. So, I backed off. Not my circus, not my monkeys, right?

Ferocious storms hammer Europe as Italy is hit by 'apocalyptic' supercell and deadly 135mph tornado lashes Swi