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About Turin

We head to this shady motel, smells like piss and regret. She’s all business, no chit-chat, which I dig. I’m sittin’ there, watchin’ her peel off this ratty jacket, thinkin’, “This is my algorithm now.” Like Zuckerberg buildin’ Facebook, I’m buildin’ my night—except mine’s dirtier, ha! Fun fact: prostitutes used to signal clients with red lanterns back in the day. Bet she don’t know that. Bet she don’t care.

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Man, what a day! I woke up in Recanati, and I swear, I thought it was just gonna be another chill day. But nah, life had other plans. First off, I’m strolling down Via Roma, right? Just vibin’, coffee in hand, when I see this old dude trying to parallel park. Like, c’mon, it’s not rocket science! He’s going back and forth, back and forth. I’m standing there, sipping my espresso, thinking, “Dude, just give it up!”

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