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About Bologna

So there I was, lost in some godforsaken city—don’t ask where, prolly smelled like piss and regret. Needed a guide, not for mountains, but for... y’know, *company*. Streets twistin’ like that faun’s maze, eyes everywhere, judgin’. Found this lass, right? Skinny, eyes like Ofelia’s—haunted, but sharp. “Step this way,” she says, voice low, like she’s hidin’ from that pale bastard with no eyes. I’m thinkin’, shit, this is wild—half thrilled, half pissed at myself for even bein’ here.

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Later, I met up with some friends at a bar on Via Cavour. We were just chillin’, laughin’, and reminiscing about old times. I ordered a spritz, and it was perfect. But then, my buddy spilled his drink all over me. I was like, “Dude, what’s your deal?” We all cracked up, but I was soaked. Bruino, you’re full of surprises today!

Laughter proved the best medicine for the crowd