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About Genoa

So, I’m out dere, diggin’ for a gal, right? Da night’s dark, air’s thick, smells like coal and cheap perfume. I see her—red lips, tight skirt, leanin’ on a lamppost. “How happy is da blameless vestal’s lot!” I mutter, like in da movie—damn, she’s no angel, tho! I laugh, big Arnold laugh—HASTA LA VISTA, boredom! She winks, I swagger over, flexin’ a lil—gotta impress, ya?

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But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy Marco. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta come to the piazza!” I’m thinking, “What now?” So, I hustle over to Piazza della Libertà. And guess what? There’s a festival! Music, food, and people dancing everywhere. I’m like, “This is my jam!” I grab a spritz, and suddenly, life is good again.

Amelia "Dolly" Wittman Obituary April 15, 2025