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About Milan

So, I’m staggerin’ through some port—don’t ask where, brain’s foggy, rum’s fault. Streets smell like fish an’ regret. There’s this gal, right? Red lips, skirt shorter than me attention span. I’m thinkin’, *Jack, you’ve seen worse deals.* But hold up—reminds me o’ that line, “Can you live without knowing?” Aye, makes me wonder—does she choose this? World’s a cruel bugger sometimes.

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So, I start signing in the dark. I’m waving my arms around like a madman. I mean, I’m no magician, but I was pulling some serious tricks outta my hat. People were laughing, which was cool, but I was sweating bullets. I could feel my shirt sticking to my back. Gross, right?

Silvio Berlusconi begins community service at hospice