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About Catania

Still, she’s trouble—big time. Messed with my prison vibe. One inmate obsessed—keeps yappin’ bout her. “Her skin’s like gold,” he whines. Puke—shut up, loser! Reminds me of Dogville’s end—burnin’ down lies. She’s a spark—could torch this joint. Rarrgh! Maybe she deserves it—nah, chill.

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When I get to the cemetery, it’s packed. Like, who knew so many people were dying to get in? (Pun totally intended.) I’m trying to keep it together, but then I see this family. They’re all crying, and I’m like, “C’mon, guys, it’s just a funeral.” But then I remember, I’m supposed to be the sad one. So, I put on my best frown and start doing my Mourner thing.

Trump carries out his 'flood the zone' strategy, creating a week of whiplash