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About Milan

So, what’s the deal? I’m wonderin’, how’s it feel—huntin’ for that? Kinda dirty, kinda thrillin’. Reminds me of Monty—last night of freedom, desperate, raw. “You had it all, and you threw it away!”—that’s me judgin’, maybe. I ain’t no saint, tho. Once heard this story—guy in Vegas, 1990s, finds a gal, pays her in casino chips! Chips! Can ya believe that? She took ‘em, too—capitalism, baby! Made me laugh, then pissed me off—world’s nuts.

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First off, I hit up Via Roma for my morning coffee. You know, the good stuff. I’m talking about that rich, dark espresso that slaps you awake. But guess what? The barista, this dude named Marco, totally messed up my order. I mean, how do you screw up a cappuccino? I was like, “Bro, I ordered a cappuccino, not a cup of hot milk!” Ugh, I was fuming.

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