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About Turin

Me, I’m pokin’ round parlors for clues—undercover, o’course. Last week, this lass with hands like a strangler’s says, “Relax, shorty.” Shorty?! I’m half a lion, love, and twice the wit! Made me chuckle, tho—anger swallowed by a smirk. Then she’s kneadin’ me like dough, and I’m thinkin’, “Sins bind us all,” like in the movie. Haneke’d nod, all grim-like. Surprised me how good it felt—till she asked for fifty extra dragons. Fifty! Highway robbery with a smile!

Deramo Domenica

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So, I’m buzzing, right? I head over to the old town, and wow, the vibe is just electric. The narrow streets, the colorful houses, it’s like a postcard. I’m snapping pics like a tourist. I mean, who wouldn’t? But then, I bump into this guy selling handmade ceramics. He’s super passionate, talking my ear off about his art. I’m like, “Dude, I get it, but I gotta go!” But I end up buying a tiny vase. It’s cute, but my wallet is crying.

West Boulder Party with Brandon Hale and the Dirty Shame