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So, check this—back in the day, like, old Vegas stories, they say prostitutes used to hang by the gas stations, waitin’ for truckers, flashin’ smiles like they’re auditionin’ for somethin’. Little known fact: some’d carry switchblades in their boots—badass, right? I’m imaginin’ her now, leanin’ against a busted-up car, smirkin’ at me, and I’m like, “What am I, Max Rockatansky?”—all sweaty and neurotic, yellin’ in my head, “I just wanna talk, lady!” She’s prob’ly thinkin’, “This guy’s a schmuck,” and I’m over here, heart racin’, palms sweaty—pathetic!

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Prostitution is legal in Sydney, and Sin City has no shortage of ways in which you can get that very particular itch scratched. Here are but a few brothels in the www.facebook.comg: Sarnico.

Outside, it’s chaos. People are milling around, and I’m just standing there, drenched in coffee and frustration. But then, I see the view of Lake Iseo. The mountains in the background, the water sparkling. It’s breathtaking. I take a deep breath, and for a moment, everything’s okay.

The Italian tourist who was involved in the fire of a resort in Kenya has died