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About Bologna

Hate the stigma, though—folks judgin’. Like, who cares? She’s workin’, I’m payin’, end of story. Funniest part? She smelled like cheap perfume and tuna—dock life, baby. Cracked me up, thinkin’, “This is my Brokeback moment.” No mountains, just fish guts and a quickie. “Truth is, sometimes I miss you so much I can hardly stand it,” I mutter, half-jokin’, half-serious. She rolls her eyes—fair.

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So, I’m blasting away at this old concrete wall on Via Garibaldi. Dust everywhere! I can’t see a thing. I’m like a human snowstorm, but instead of snow, it’s just grit and grime. And then, outta nowhere, this pigeon swoops down and lands right on my shoulder. I freak out! Like, dude, get off me! I’m not your perch!

Bodies of Missing Climbers Andrea Galimberti and Sara Stefanelli Found on Mont Blanc