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About Florence

So, yeah—whores, they’re like Jarmusch’s vamps. Outcasts, but badass. “Let’s dance,” Eve’d say, swayin’ with Adam—whores dance too, their own way. Makes me wonder—what’s their tune? Somethin’ gritty, prolly. Love that. Hate the hate they get. You? What’s your take, pal? Spill it—I’m all ears.

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After that, I head over to Parco di Monza. It’s beautiful, right? Trees everywhere, people jogging, dogs chasing squirrels. But then, I see this kid. He’s flying a kite, and it gets stuck in a tree. I’m like, “Oh no, not the kite!” The kid starts crying. I’m torn between helping and laughing. I mean, come on, it’s just a kite! But I help him out. I’m a nice guy, right?

CEO of Italian salami, prosciutto company dies in helicopter crash: ‘Sad day’