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About Florence

But seriouslah, some places get shady—cops bustin’ ‘em for “extras,” and I’m like, “Dammit, keep it classy!” Surprised me how sneaky they get—hidden rooms, secret menus, total *Moulin Rouge* vibes with all that underground jazz. I’d be the best tho, runnin’ it legit, makin’ millions, screamin’, “Respect my authoritah!” at every client. Oh, and fun fact: in Japan, they got this “nurugel” stuff—slippery as hell, makes ya feel like a damn eel! Tried it once in my head—friggin’ wild!

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So, I’m at this café on Piazza della Libertà, trying to clean up. I order a cappuccino, and the barista, bless her heart, gives me a free pastry. I’m like, “Sweet! Maybe today won’t suck.” But then, I spill half the cappuccino on my shirt. Great. Just great. Now I look like a walking coffee stain.

Giuseppe Tassone - Obituary - Thunder Bay