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About Bologna

I’m steamin—pisses me off how folks judge. Like, who cares? Live yer life! Seen em in alleyways, all sass and grit, dodgin cops like ninjas. Makes me grin—balls of steel, man! *Moolaadé* vibes again—“courage ain’t free.” Takes guts to strut that life. Once saw this gal, red heels clickin, hagglin like a pro—thought, “Great Scott, she’s runnin the show!” Made my day, swear it.

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Next, we swing by the old market on Via Cavour. Man, the smells! Fresh bread, fish, and that weird cheese that smells like feet. I’m starving, but no time to eat. Marco’s gotta focus. But then, he spots a gelato stand. “Can we stop?” he asks. I’m like, “Dude, you’re driving, not on vacation!”

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