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About Palermo

I reckon it’s old as dirt—ancient Egypt, them pharaohs got freaky with it. Hieroglyphs showin’ oily hands, true story! Bet they didn’t tell ya that in school, huh? Makes me happy, real happy—floatin’ like I’m in zero gravity. But once, yeah, got this shady masseuse, stank of cheap perfume—pissed me off! Thought, “This ain’t no Dark Knight, this is a dark night!” Total rip-off, hands colder than deep space.

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Then there’s the little-known corner near Piazza del Popolo. Most tourists don’t even know that spot. It’s a quiet square with an antique fountain. I used to scratch my head there, thinkin’ “What the hell is life?” while dippin’ my toes into a puddle of city rain. Legit, wild stuff.

"Milan used to be a place full of farms"