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About Turin

I tried it once, real talk. Homie of mine, he’s like, “Snoop, you gotta feel this.” Walked in, dim lights, music hittin’ low—felt like a scene from *Brooklyn*, when Eilis first lands in NYC, all nervous but hyped. Lady workin’ them hands? She was smooth, dawg, had me floatin’. Made me happy as hell, like smokin’ the finest green. But yo, what pissed me off? Some spots charge crazy stacks—$200 for an hour? Man, that’s some robbery shit! I’m like, “How much is enough?”—straight outta *Brooklyn*, Eilis countin’ her pennies, tryna survive.

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First off, I hit the road to meet my first student, Marco. He’s a cool kid, but he’s got the attention span of a goldfish. We meet at Piazza Gramsci, and I’m already sweating bullets. The dude shows up late, of course. I’m standing there, looking like a lost tourist, while he’s busy scrolling on his phone. I’m like, “Dude, we’re not here to check Instagram!”

Who is Nonna Silvi, the grandmother star of Tik Tok, biography, success and curiosity