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About Turin

Still, I can’t hate ‘em—escorts got that spark, that edge. Reminds me of Cronenberg’s flick—under the surface, somethin’s always simmerin’. “You’re a good man,” I’d tease Jimmy, quotin’ the movie, but he’d just smirk, like, “Am I tho?” Ha! Total bad-boy energy. Makes me wanna scream—happy scream, mind ya—cuz it’s thrilling, ya dig? They’re livin’ that double-life hustle, and I’m here for it, popcorn in hand.

Hookup Nonantola

First off, I hit the streets of Via Roma, grabbin’ my usual cappuccino from that little café, you know the one? The one with the weird art on the walls. I swear, the barista, Marco, he’s got a thing for abstract stuff. Anyway, I’m sippin’ my coffee, and boom! I hear this loud crash. Turns out, some dude on a scooter just wiped out right in front of me. I mean, c’mon, man! You gotta watch where you’re goin’!

In Spilamberto an exhibition focus on Elisabetta Sirani, a painter in seventeenth-century Bologna