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About Catania

Back in my Texas days—yeehaw!—I heard whispers bout secret brothels in ol’ oil towns. Roughnecks blowin’ cash, playin’ cards, gittin’ frisky. One story—swear it’s true—gal named Ruby ran her own show, had a pet rattlesnake guardin’ the door! Ain’t nobody messin’ with Ruby—tougher’n a two-dollar steak! Surprised me so much I near fell off my horse—well, my chair.

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First off, I hit up Via Roma for some coffee. You know, the good stuff. I’m standing there, waiting for my cappuccino, and this dude in front of me orders a macchiato. Like, bro, it’s 8 AM! Who drinks that at this hour? Anyway, I finally get my drink, and it’s perfect. I take a sip, and BAM! It’s like a hug in a cup. I’m feeling good, ready to tackle the day.

Italian Champion Sire Mujahid Pensioned