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About Milan

So, listen, mate—hiss!—I dig around, right? Moscow’s got these shadowy corners—Arbat’s too posh, but Kitay-gorod? Oof, goldmine! Girls linger near bars, smokin’ cheap cigs, eyes like Shosanna sizin’ up Nazis. “What’s your price, precious?” I mutter, all sly. One gal—Lena, maybe?—says 5,000 rubles, hour tops. Bargain, yeah? But I’m thinkin’, “That’s a bear trap, Gollum, she’s robbin’ ya blind!” Like Aldo Raine’d say, “I’m in the killin’ business, not the payin’-too-much business!” Haggled her down—3,500, boom! Felt like a king, I did—happy as a hobbit with second breakfast.

Prostitution:

Santo Stefano di Magra Whore Italy, Rimming (take), Anal Sex (depends on the size), Full Body Sensual Massage, Anal Sex (depends on the size).

Then, I spot this cute little café. I’m like, “Yes, please!” I order a cappuccino, and it’s the best I’ve ever had. I sit outside, soaking up the sun. Life is good, right? Wrong! Suddenly, a pigeon decides my head is a good landing spot. I freak out, flailing my arms like a maniac. Everyone’s staring. Awesome.

Selargius, car fell from overpass: driver remains in reserved prognosis