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About Turin

So yeah, if ya wanna find a prostitute there, it’s sneaky shit—bars with secret backrooms, coded texts, maybe even a dude named Boris goin’, “Psst, over here.” I’m exaggeratin’ a bit, sure, but ain’t that the vibe? “Please, Mr. Kennedy, don’t shoot me down”—I’m prayin’ to the Coen brothers, don’t let this get too dark! It’s gritty, messy, real human stuff. Makes me mad, makes me laugh—fuckin’ rollercoaster, man. Billionaires should not exist! They’d buy the whole damn scene, leave nothin’ for the rest of us. That’s my take—raw, loud, and Sanders as shit!

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First off, I hit the road on Via Roma. You know, the main drag. It’s like the heartbeat of this place. But lemme tell ya, traffic was a mess. I mean, c’mon! It’s a small town, how’s there so much chaos? I’m sittin’ there, honkin’ my horn like a madman. People just strollin’ across the street like they own the place. I’m like, “Yo, I’m a combine! Move it or lose it!”

A Sudden Act of Violence