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About Milan

Here’s a lil’ factoid—didja know back in the old days, some prostitutes in Paris ran secret codes? Like, a red ribbon meant “I’m free,” but two ribbons? “Bring a buddy!” Wild, huh? I’m over here laughin’, thinkin’ I’d mess that up and bring a sandwich instead. Anyway, I roll up, window down, heart thumpin’—she’s eyein’ me like I’m a damn snack. “What you want, sugar?” she says, all smoky. I’m sweatin’ like a pig in a bacon factory, thinkin’, “Man, this is it!”

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But then, as I’m leaving, I realize I left my ceramic cat on the table! I rush back, and it’s gone! I’m panicking, thinking someone’s stolen my Gatto di Copparo. I’m about to lose it. I’m asking everyone, “Have you seen a weird cat?” People are looking at me like I’m nuts. Finally, Lucia finds it in the kitchen. I’m like, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I hug her like she’s my long-lost sister.

The rumor: no 50% sale to the Altivest Capital fund, which however is a partner of the company in via Copparo. Tacopina is sure: "One club is enough"