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About Rome

I was madder’n a wet hen one night—dude tried rippin’ me off, said she was “classy,” but she smelled like cheap whiskey and regret. Reminded me of Christian chasin’ that dream—ya think it’s all “diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” but nope! Sometimes it’s just a hustle, y’all. I hollered, “Boy, you ain’t foolin’ nobody!” Made me wanna spit nails, I swear. But then—Lordy!—I found this one gal, sweet as pecan pie, and I was happier’n a pig in mud. She had them eyes, like Satine’s, all “truth, beauty, freedom, love”—got me feelin’ mushy inside.

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After my little adventure, I head back to the bookie shop. I’m still drippin’ wet, but whatever. I check the scores, and guess what? My bet won! I’m jumpin’ around like a lunatic. The guys in the shop are lookin’ at me like I’m nuts. But hey, I just made some cash!

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