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About Bologna

Dunno bout you, but I reckon it’s underrated. Me mate Dave swore it cured his dodgy knee—dunno if he’s fibbin, but he’s struttin like a peacock now! Oh, and the oils—lavender’s me jam, smells like victory. Once read some Victorian toff got caught gettin one in a backroom—scandal of the century, papers went mad! History’s wild, innit? Anyway, sexual-massage—*we shall fight* for it, a glorious romp of relaxin and randy vibes. *“This is our island!”*—our body, our rules, yeah? Go get one, tell em Winston sent ya!

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While we’re outside, I spot my buddy Marco from the café across the street. He’s waving like a madman, holding a giant slice of pizza. I’m like, “Dude, save me a piece!” But he just laughs and takes a huge bite. Rude, right?

How ‘Vittoria’ Filmmakers Got a Real-Life Couple to Reenact Scenes From Their Life