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About Palermo

Oi mate, picture this – me, a tractor driver, rumbling through fields, dust in me face, and then bam, I’m thinkin’ bout brothels. Weird, innit? But here we go, calm as David Attenborough whisperin’ bout wildebeests. A brothel, yeah, it’s like a hidden nest in the wild, tucked away, full of life, strange and quiet-like. “The air hums with unease,” like in *Werckmeister Harmonies*, that slow, moody flick I bloody love. You ever seen it? Béla Tarr’s masterpiece – all shadows and weird vibes, fits a brothel perfect.

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After that, I head over to Via San Giovanni. I’m thinking about checking out some local shops. I love the vibe there. But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring! I mean, like, monsoon level. I’m soaked in seconds. I duck into a little boutique, and the owner’s like, “Welcome! You look like a drowned rat.” Thanks, buddy. Just what I needed to hear.

Pope Francis makes surprise donation to struggling poultry workers