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About Palermo

So, findin’ a prossie, right—it’s like huntin’ for rare roses. You sniff ‘round, dodge the thorns—*ouch!*—and hope you don’t get stung, yeah? In Anatolia, they’re all, “Where’s the corpse?” Me, I’m like, “Where’s the tart?!” Same vibe, mate—dark, messy, bit funny. Once, I saw this gal, proper fit, leanin’ on a lamppost—thought, “Jackpot!” But nah, she’s just waitin’ for a bus! *Mimes sulkin’, kicks a pebble*—gutted, me! Laughed me head off after, though—silly ol’ Bean!

Wandering Women and Holy Matrons

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I hit up this little place called Caffè del Porto. Best espresso ever! But then, I spill it all over my shirt. Classic me, right? I’m standin’ there, lookin’ like a total mess. The barista laughs, and I’m like, “Yeah, I meant to do that.” Sarcasm level: expert.

France, Italy Fights Against Speed Cameras Explodes