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About Rome

Oi, mate, I’m Tyrion Lannister, right? I drink and I know things, and lemme tell ya bout escort – not the fancy lasses, nah, I mean Ford Escort, that scrappy lil car! Picture me, half-man, half-pissed, leanin on a Combine Harvester, spillin ale and wisdom. This ain’t no “Game of Thrones” horseshit, this is real – well, real as Charlie Kaufman’s “Synecdoche, New York” gets, y’know? “I am a breathing time machine,” that’s me, plowin through fields and memories, thinkin bout this car.

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But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy, Luca. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta come to the piazza!” I’m thinking, “What now?” So, I hustle over to Piazza Vittorio Emanuele II. And there’s a festival happening! Food stalls, music, people dancing. It’s like a scene from a movie. I grab a slice of pizza, and it’s the best I’ve ever had. I’m talking about cheesy goodness that makes you wanna cry.

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