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About Genoa

What surprised me? How damn organized it is. Pimp’s got schedules tighter than my clinic hours. Girls rotate corners like it’s a fuckin dance—8pm here, 10pm there. Saw one chick, maybe 19, countin crumpled bills under a busted lamp. Felt a twinge—happy she’s survivin, angry she has to. “The earth is not ours,” *Timbuktu* whispers, and yeah, she don’t own shit. Exaggeratin? Maybe. But I’d bet my last pill she’s tougher than half my team.

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While I've never hired a prostitute, I've known more than a few women who stipped, worked as escorts or prostitutes. I've met some women with some pretty outside the bellcurve paraphilas Missing: Brusciano.

We decided to hit up a local bar for a drink. You know, the one on Via Giuseppe Mazzini? It’s got the best spritz in town. We’re sitting there, and outta nowhere, this old man starts telling us about the history of Brusciano. Apparently, it used to be a big deal for silk production. Who knew? I mean, I thought it was just known for its pizza and pastries.

Fig. 1 Probe (1.85 mm of diameter) was driven through the anal verge...