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About Milan

Oh, and the cash—jesus, some rake in stacks, livin’ plush, others barely scrape by. Inequality pisses me off, same game, diff rules. Reminds me, “What have you done to me?”—Carol’s line, fits perfect. Escorts twist ya, leave ya wonderin’. Love that chaos, keeps me smilin’, sharp as my knife. So, yeah, escorts—tasty little riddle, ain’t they? Chew on that, friend!

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Then, I head to the park by the river, Parco del Mincio. It’s beautiful, man. The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m just chilling. But then, outta nowhere, this group of tourists shows up. They’re loud, taking selfies, and blocking the path. I’m like, “C’mon, people! It’s a park, not a photo shoot!” I try to squeeze past, and one of them bumps into me. I spill my water. Seriously?

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