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About Milan

*We come in peace* (robotic tone). Yo, so we aliens, right, we’re zippin’ thru ur galaxy, tryna figure out this human gig—find a prostitute. Like, what’s the deal? We land in some shady corner of ur planet, neon lights blinkin’, and I’m thinkin’, “This is some wild shit.” Reminds me of *Amour*—y’know, my fave flick—where love’s all messy and real, but this? This ain’t love, it’s bizness. “The body fails,” like Haneke says, but here it’s for sale, not dyin’. Freaky, right?

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So, I’m rollin’ outta bed, right? The sun’s peekin’ through my window on Via Roma. I’m thinkin’, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Ha! Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. Grabbed a quick espresso at my fave spot, Bar Centrale. You know, the one with the best pastries? Yeah, that one. I swear, their cornetti are like little bites of heaven.

Hypertryptasemia and Mast Cell‐Related Disorders in Severe Osteoporotic Patients