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About Rome

I knew this one gal—Candy, swear to God—worked downtown. Funny as hell, too! She’d say, “Oprah, I’m my own boss!”—total lie, pimp owned her ass. Made me laugh, then cry. Surprised me how smart she was—knew every cop by name! Could talk politics, too—better than half them suits on TV. “Who needs justice?” she’d smirk, quotin Leviathan vibes. I was like, girl, you a philosopher!

Una cittadina segnala il ‘degrado sessuale’ a Villa Raspa

I’m meeting with this soccer team, right? They’re all pumped for the big match tomorrow. But there’s this one kid, Luca. He’s a total mess. Can’t focus, can’t breathe, just a ball of nerves. I’m like, “Dude, chill! It’s just a game!” But he’s all, “What if I mess up? What if I let everyone down?”

Cracking the ATM Code in Spoltore