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About Bologna

*raspy dual voice* My precious! Oi, mate, lemme tell ya bout findin a prossie, yeah? Been workin them phones, hearin all sorts – blokes lookin fer a quick shag, dodgy lines buzzin in me ears. Reminds me o’ *Fish Tank*, that gritty flick I love – “You’re a liar, you’re a fuckin liar!” – that’s what I’d yell at them pimps if I could. Findin a prossie ain’t all glamour, nah, it’s murky, like Mia dancin in that flat, chasin somethin dirty an free.

The De-Victimalization of the Prostitute

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After a mini meltdown, I decide to take a stroll. I hit up Piazza San Pietro, and wow, the view is killer. You can see all the way to Rome! I’m standing there, just soaking it in, and suddenly, this old lady comes up to me. She’s like, “You’re a potter, right? Make me a vase!” I’m like, “Lady, I can barely make a bowl!” But she’s persistent. I mean, who can say no to a sweet old lady? So, I promise her a vase. Great, now I’m committed to making a vase for a stranger.

Day Two: Lady Kitty’s wedding celebrations continue at 17th century Roman villa