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About Bologna

So I hit the streets, right? Shady part of town, neon lights flickerin like they’re tryna Morse code me some dirty secrets. I’m thinkin, “The cipher’s in the streets, man!”—straight outta *Zodiac*. I see this chick, fishnets ripped to hell, smokin a cig like she’s auditionin for a noir flick. I’m like, “Hey, you workin?” She squints at me, all sassy, “What’s it to ya, grandma?” Grandma?! Bitch, I’m Tina fuckin Fey, I’ll roast you from here to Siberia! Got me heated, but I laughed—props for guts, ya know?

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So, I’m cruisin’ down Via Roma, right? The sun’s blazin’, and I’m feelin’ good. I mean, who wouldn’t? The smell of fresh bread from the bakery hits me like a wave. I grab a sfincione—best thing ever! But then, BAM! I trip over some cobblestones. Classic Lercara-Friddi, man. Those streets are like a puzzle.

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