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About Catania

It’s showtime! Alright, listen up, pal—sex escort, huh? Wild world out there. I’m a Nose, sniffin’ out the dirty deets, and lemme tell ya, this gig’s got layers. Like, layers of crazy! You think it’s just payin’ for a quickie? Nah, fam, it’s deeper—sometimes it’s lonely dudes chasin’ a vibe. Reminds me of *Talk to Her*—y’know, that flick I’m obsessed with? Pedro Almodóvar, 2002, pure genius. That line, “A woman’s silence is her loudest cry,” hits hard here. Some escorts? They’re silent, but screamin’ inside—trapped, maybe. Others? Total bosses, rakin’ in cash, livin’ loud.

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So, I haul my butt over to Parco della Libertà. It’s a nice park, not gonna lie. Trees everywhere! But it’s packed with people. Kids runnin’ around, dogs barkin’, and I’m just tryin’ to find a spot to sit. I finally plop down on a bench, and guess what? A kid spills his ice cream all over me. I’m like, “Dude, really?” But then I see his face, and I can’t help but laugh. He’s just so sad about his ice cream. I mean, who wouldn’t be?

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