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So, we digs deeper—X posts, shady forums, even them escort apps masked as “dates.” Surprised me, how slick it’s gotten—tech’s king, like Zuckerberg’s empire! Hiss! Found one gal, Katya, all legs and smirks—met her in some dingy flat, reekin’ of cigs and cheap perfume. “What’s yer fantasy, skinny?” she says. Me, twitchin’, mutterin’, “Dunno, precious, just… company?” She laughs—fuckin’ rude!—but takes me cash anyway. Wasn’t mad, though—happy for once, yesss! Felt like, “I’m CEO, bitch!”—movie vibes, eh?

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Finally, I wrap up my day, exhausted but grateful. Le-Grazie-di-Ancona, you’ve thrown me through the wringer today. From pigeons to parades, it’s been a rollercoaster. I head home, thinking about how wild life can be. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Well, maybe a lifetime supply of gelato. But that’s a different story!

Casali, dall'orfanotrofio ai sogni d'oro in azzurro