Mia Assen Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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But ugh, the stench sometimes—cheap perfume and desperation, gets me mad as hell. Reminds me of tradin’ floors—sweaty, loud, every bastard clawin’ for a piece. Still, I dig the chaos—whores got that raw energy, y’know? Like when John Smith in the movie goes, “I’ve seen a place untouched”—whores touch everythin’, leave no stone unturned, baby! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who gives a shit—I’m Gordon freakin’ Gekko, I see gold where you see dirt.

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But then, I hear this loud noise. Turns out, there’s a street performer doing some crazy tricks. I stop to watch, and this guy is flipping and spinning like a pro. I’m clapping, totally into it. But then, he trips and falls. I’m like, “Oof, that’s gotta hurt.” But he gets up, laughs it off, and keeps going. Respect, man.

Locatelli again near the top behind Bulega in rainy Warm-Up session at Assen’s final day