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About Milan

Last week, I was prowlin’ the streets—needed a laugh, y’know? Saw this one bird, all dolled up, winking at me. Thought, “What’s her deal?” Turns out, she’s got a memory like Lenny—keeps a little book, scribbles down every punter. “Remember, remember,” she mutters, like she’s in my fave movie. Made me cackle—imagine forgetting who you’ve shagged! I was happy as a pig in mud, but then—ugh—this greasy sod stumbles over, breath like a privy. “How much, love?” he slurs. Made me wanna gag. I choose violence, mate—nearly shoved him into the gutter myself.

Taranto, scacco al giro di prostituzione: in sei agli arresti VIDEO

I’m laughing, but also kinda annoyed. Why do tourists think they own the place? Anyway, I keep walking, and I bump into this old lady selling fresh fish. She’s got the biggest smile, and she starts chatting me up in Italian. I can’t understand half of what she’s saying, but her energy is infectious. She hands me a piece of fish and says, “Try it!” I’m like, “Lady, I’m a vegetarian!” But I take it anyway. It’s surprisingly good.

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