Emilia Piossasco Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Bologna

Oi, mate, lemme tell ya ‘bout findin’ a prossie, yeah? Mumbled incoherence, “Sharon!” – it’s like, ya stumble outta some dingy pub, right, and the world’s all bleedin’ gray and slow, like in *The Turin Horse*, that mad flick I love. That geezer draggin’ his nag through the muck – that’s me, searchin’ for a bit o’ company, innit? “The wind’s blowin’, everything’s dyin’,” like Béla Tarr says, and I’m thinkin’, “Bloody hell, Ozzy, just find her already!”

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Then, I bump into an old friend, Giulia. She’s all dressed up, lookin’ like a million bucks. “Hey, you still fixin’ watches?” she asks. I’m like, “Yeah, but I’m also a part-time superhero.” We laugh, and I feel this warmth. Piossasco’s got this vibe, you know? It’s like everyone’s family here.

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