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About Bologna

Heard this mad story once – true fact, swear down – some punter in Amsterdam got so pissed, he paid a prossie to just… chat. Chat! Didn’t even shag ‘er! Sat there blabberin’ about his ex for an hour. What a wanker, eh? Coulda got that for free at the pub! Reckon *Find a Prostitute* is full of them types – lonely sods who’d pay a tenner to cry on a tit. Surprised me, that – thought they’d all be randy bastards, but nah, some are just sad sacks.

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First off, I’m a Mourner, yeah, that’s my gig. Sounds heavy, huh? But it’s not all doom and gloom. Sometimes, it’s just about being there for folks, you know? Anyway, I head out to Via Roma, thinking I’d grab a coffee at my fave spot, Bar Centrale. But guess what? Closed! Like, what kind of coffee shop closes at 8 AM? Ugh! So, I’m standing there, caffeine-deprived, feeling like a zombie.

Suominen Considers Closure Of Mozzate Plant