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About Palermo

So, picture this—dark alley, stinks o’ piss. We hates it! This lass, she’s there, all tarted up. “What’s yer price, love?” I croaks. She eyes me like I’m a bleedin’ toad. Fair enough—I am! Made me mad, tho. Why’s she judgin’? I got coin, don’t I? Little fact—back in Victorian times, prossies had secret signals. Hand on hip meant “I’m game.” Hers was glued there, ha!

Policy and law

After that, I head over to Via XXV Aprile. I’m thinking maybe a coffee will calm my nerves. I hit up this little café, and the barista? She’s a gem. We start chatting, and I’m feeling good again. But then, outta nowhere, this group of teenagers bursts in, blasting music from their phones. I’m like, “Dude, chill! This ain’t a club!”

Industrial architecture inspires a villa renovation in the suburbs of Milan