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About Genoa

So I’m stumblin’, lookin’ fer a lass, right? Streets all twisty, dark—like that bit in the movie, “the favela’s a maze, man!” I see this gal, winkin’, smokin’—proper fit, yeah? I go, *mimes walking, trips, waves awkwardly* “Hullooo!” She laughs—bloody hell, I’m red as a lobster! Made me happy, that—silly ol’ me, charmin’ ‘em accidental-like. But then—BAM!—some bloke, her pimp prob’ly, storms up, all “Who’s this prat?!” *mimes dodging a punch, flails* Nearly shat meself!

Prostitutes Sassari

So, I roll outta bed, grab my coffee, and head out. The sun’s shining, and I’m thinkin’, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Ha! Yeah, right. I hit the streets, and it’s like a scene from a movie. Via Roma is packed! People everywhere, like ants on a sugar trail. I’m dodging tourists, locals, and a stray dog that looks like it’s seen better days.

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