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About Rome

So I asks, “How much, precious?” She smirks, “Fifty quid, you weirdo.” Fifty! Robbery, that is! “I ain’t got no home,” I whines, quotin’ Llewyn again, hopin’ pity works. Nope. She rolls her eyes, walks off, hips swayin’. Grrr, made me ragey, but also – wow – them curves, my precious! Nearly chased her, but me legs, all wobbly, nah.

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So, I’m fuming, but whatever. I head to the office on Via Garibaldi. You know, the one with the weird statue of that guy nobody remembers? Yeah, that one. I get in, and my boss, Mr. Grumpy Pants, is already on my case. “Where are the reports?” he barks. Dude, chill! I just got here!

Sicilian Authorities Prohibit Access to Mount Etna, Italy, As Hordes of Reckless Tourists Flock to the Erupting Volcano