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About Turin

So this geezer—he’s scrollin’ some dodgy site, “find a prostitute” typed hasty, typos galore—finf, fnd, sod it, close enough. Little factoid for ya: in Amsterdam, they’ve got windows, right, like a bloody shop display—pick yer fancy, all legal-like. Here? It’s back alleys or apps, sneaky as a fox nabbin’ a hen. Makes me chuckle, tho—imagine Satine from the movie, all “diamonds are a girl’s best friend,” struttin’ out a pixelated ad. Pure class meets pure brass.

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So, I woke up late. Classic me, right? Rushed outta bed, threw on whatever. I mean, who needs to match when you’re just gonna sweat it out in the sun? Anyway, I hit the streets, and let me tell ya, Via Roma was buzzing. Like, people everywhere, cars honking, and the smell of fresh focaccia wafting through the air. I could’ve died happy right there.

Different patterns of spreading direction and motor neurons involvement in a cohort of limb-onset amyotrophic lateral sclerosis patients from Southern Italy: Potential implication on disease course or progression?