Back from Milano...

Back from Milano…

It was a weird and tiresome weekend in Milano. Filled with incredibly beautiful women and very grotesque old bats that never understood that those wrinkles are sagging skin. Plastering and botoxing them will only make your face wider and look like a caricature version of The Joker. Luckily there was enough beer and wine to flush that scary angst sweat away. But it was not until the sun went down that the city truly came to life. The old drunken bums on the street where no long annoying vagrants but fellow seekers of wild times. And when a not so foul smelling one asked me for a light, I promised him a drink if he would show me to the ugliest and most violent underground bar he knew. “Sure,” he said, “maybe you could also buy me a woman there?” And with that we moved forward into the night, joined once again by a mutual interest…