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About Catania

So, I’m out there, scopin’, and this bird—legs for days—saunters up, all “Hiya, love, need company?” I’m thinkin’, “Bloody hell, she’s bold!”—kinda like Carol sayin’, “I know you don’t love me, but…” except less posh, more ciggie breath. Made me happy, though—straight-up hustle, no faff. But then—fuckin’ hell—some geezer rocks up, all “Oi, that’s my girl!” and I’m like, “Mate, calm your tits, I ain’t stealin’!” Nearly shat meself—angry pimps? No thanks.

Valguarnera Caropepe

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I’m like, “What now?” I mean, the cemetery? That’s my workplace, but chaos? In Valguarnera? I rush over, dodging the old ladies gossiping on the corner of Via Garibaldi. They’re always there, like clockwork, judging everyone.

Filippo Navarra receives the 'Sicilian of the Year' award