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About Bologna

What pisses me off? The stench. Gods, it’s like that bathhouse in the movie—sweaty, grimy, makes ya gag. But what got me happy? Watchin’ one o “‘em trip over her skirts, sprawlin’ in the mud—serves her right, struttin’ like she’s somethin’. Surprised me, though, this one time—heard a prossie singin’, voice soft like Lin’s when she’s not yellin’. Caught me off guard, almost felt… somethin’. Then I remembered who I am. Screw that.

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Anyway, I keep walkin’, and I hit Piazza della Repubblica. It’s usually packed with folks, but today? Crickets. Just me and a couple of stray cats. I’m like, “Where’s everyone at?” Then I remember, it’s market day! The stalls are poppin’ off on Via Garibaldi. I rush over, and man, the smell of fresh bread hits me like a brick. I grab a focaccia, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. I’m munchin’ away, feelin’ like a king.

Pope Francis appoints Italian Biblicist as deputy of doctrinal congregation