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About Bologna

Picture this: dim lights, some chick—or dude, no judgin’—runnin’ fingers down yer spine. Feels like Adèle in the movie whisperin’, “I want you to touch me.” Gets ya all tingly, brother! I tried it once, swear the masseuse was a ninja—found knots I didn’t know I had. Laughed my ass off when she said, “Hulk, you’re tense!” No kiddin’, sister!

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Then, I stop at this café on Via dei Fori Imperiali. I order a cappuccino, and the barista—this dude with a mustache that could rival a walrus—totally messes it up. I mean, how do you mess up a cappuccino? I’m like, “Bro, I asked for foam, not a milk tsunami!” He just shrugs. Ugh, whatever. I down it anyway. Caffeine is life.

Arsenic leads to water ban north of Rome