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About Turin

Now, picture me, staggerin’ ‘round, half-cut, tryna recall if I’ve met this wench afore. “Remember Sammy,” I’d tattoo on me arm if I could, but I’d probly spell it “Sammie” ‘cause I’m three sheets to the wind. Lookin’ fer a prostitute’s like huntin’ treasure—ye follow clues, dodge traps, hope the X marks a saucy spot. Ever hear ‘bout the “two-penny hangover”? Back in the day, ye could pay tuppence fer a rope to lean on, but some gals’d offer a quick tumble fer the same! Cheap as chips, made me laugh ‘til me sides split—sly dogs, they were.

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I pull up to the park near the Centro Commerciale “La Corte Lombarda.” It’s a nice spot, but today? It’s packed. Kids are screaming, parents are trying to chill, and I’m just there, trying to keep my cool. But then, I spot this guy. He’s acting all sketchy, pacing back and forth. My instincts kick in. I’m like, “What’s your deal, bro?”

Roche to sell U.S. plant to Patheon, saving about 200 jobs