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About Rome

D’oh! Tried it once—total mess! Oil everywhere, slipped off the couch—bam! Marge was pissed, yellin’, “Homer, you donut!” But man, when it works? Heaven. Skin on skin, tension meltin’—like Sam and Suzy runnin’ off in the flick. “We’re in love, we’re outta here!”—that’s the vibe. Pro tip—use warm oil, not cold crap. Cold’s a buzzkill, trust me. Got this one story—buddy Lenny swore his masseuse was a ninja. Silent hands, sneaky moves—boom, he’s jelly! Laughed my ass off picturin’ it.

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Finally, the rain stops, and we head to the park, Parco della Rocca. It’s beautiful, man. The sun’s peeking out, and everything’s glistening. I’m feeling good, you know? But then, I see this group of kids playing soccer, and they’re kicking the ball around like they’re in the World Cup. I’m like, “I used to be that good.” So, I jump in, and let me tell ya, I’m not as spry as I used to be. I trip over my own feet and faceplant. Classic me, right?

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