Some people don’t like us zingaros, think we’re all scam artists and thieves, rascals and layabouts, that we’re all unwashed and uneducated and that we’re nothing but trouble.
Fine by me because everybody else is a bunch of hypocrites; let he who is pure cast the first stone and all that. Bastards. Still, it’s not all bad. Certainly not everybody is as ignorant as I’m making out; I don’t hate everybody.
I like postal workers for example, they’re particularly tasty.
There had been a full moon last night, and as the sun set, the hairs on my arms stood up…