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About Milan

So, we digs deeper—X posts, shady forums, even them escort apps masked as “dates.” Surprised me, how slick it’s gotten—tech’s king, like Zuckerberg’s empire! Hiss! Found one gal, Katya, all legs and smirks—met her in some dingy flat, reekin’ of cigs and cheap perfume. “What’s yer fantasy, skinny?” she says. Me, twitchin’, mutterin’, “Dunno, precious, just… company?” She laughs—fuckin’ rude!—but takes me cash anyway. Wasn’t mad, though—happy for once, yesss! Felt like, “I’m CEO, bitch!”—movie vibes, eh?

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So, I wrap up the watch and head out. The streets of Piossasco are alive! People everywhere, laughin’, eatin’ gelato, livin’ their best lives. I stroll down Via Torino, and the smell of fresh pasta hits me. I’m droolin’. I see a stand with arancini, and I can’t resist. I buy one, and it’s like a flavor explosion in my mouth.

Savoie-Piémont: 190 km of European solidarity from Chambéry to Turin