Ellie Traversetolo Brothel ❤️

About Milan

Once, this chick at a brothel – swear she looked like Carmela, but skinnier – she goes, “You want the special, hon?” I’m like, “What’s that, a fuckin’ sandwich?” She laughed, I laughed, then I tipped her extra. Good kid, ya know? But some of ‘em, man, they’re cold – “Follow me, don’t touch my face” – like that line from the movie. Creepy shit.

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More brothel than strip club. Still not certain about the name of this club. This was my first visit to the Rio Grande Valley. Having read prior reviews of this club, I decided to give it a try. I parked .

I’m yelling, “Get the cat!” But no one’s listening. So, I climb up, and let me tell you, that cat was NOT happy. It’s hissing and scratching, and I’m like, “Chill, I’m here to save you!” Finally, I get it, and the crowd goes wild. I’m a hero! Or so I thought.

Was there an Italian Surrealism? An exhibition at the Magnani-Rocca Foundation tries to shed light on the relationship between Surrealism and Italy