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About Palermo

Alright, so findin’ a prostitute—helluva task, right? Everybody lies, that’s the damn motto. You think you’re gettin’ some sweet deal, but nah, it’s all smoke and mirrors. Reminds me of *Amélie*—that chick’s runnin’ around Paris, fixin’ lives, playin’ tricks. “I’m no one’s little weasel,” she’d say, but prostitutes? They’re weasels for cash, man. Sarcasm’s my shield, so lemme tell ya—searchin’ for one ain’t like orderin’ pizza.

1. Hadrian’s Villa

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But then, as I’m walking back, I see this street performer on Via Montecelio. He’s playing the accordion, and it’s actually kinda good. I stop to listen, and suddenly, I’m in a movie scene. You know, the kind where everything’s perfect? I’m swaying, feeling the vibe, and then—BAM! A pigeon poops on my shoulder. Like, really? I’m just trying to enjoy my day!

Rory McIlroy once called the Ryder Cup an exhibition. He knows better now