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About Catania

Oh blast it, R2-D2, where are you? Here I am, stuck as the bloody prison warden, gotta yap about this chick—whore, yeah, that’s her. Not her real name, probs, but who cares? She’s a legend round here, swear. Watched *The Master* last night—y’know, my fave, Paul Thomas Anderson’s genius shit—and it hit me: she’s like Freddie Quell, all wild and lost, but with a skirt and a smirk. “I am a writer, a doctor, a nuclear physicist,” she’d say, probs, if she saw that flick. Total nutcase energy, mate.

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Finally, I get to the shop, and the guy behind the counter is all, “What happened to you?” I’m like, “Just a little tumble, no biggie.” But inside, I’m fuming. Why can’t kids just watch where they’re going?

Human remains recovered in Marghera: do they belong to Isabella Noventa? - L'Unione Sarda English