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About Rome

Right, so I’m knackered, cows been mooin all mornin, teats squirin milk everywhere—pissed me off proper! Then I’m like, sod this, I need a shag, somethin to shake the barn dust off me. Off I trudge, boots still stinkin, to this shady lane—thinkin, “How much?” like that lass in the film whisperin her fears. We’ve all got our price, eh? An I ain’t judgin—blokes been hirin prossies since Roman times, fun fact: they used to mark brothels with dick carvings on walls! True story, google it.

List of profanities in the Italian language

So, I head over to the church, Chiesa di San Giovanni Battista. Beautiful place, man. The frescoes are stunning. But today, the vibe was off. I walk in, and there’s this couple arguing. Like, full-on shouting. I’m thinking, “C’mon, guys, this is a holy place!” But they didn’t care. I tried to intervene, but they just looked at me like I was a ghost. So, I backed off. Not my circus, not my monkeys, right?

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