Aria Camerano Whore ❤️❤️

About Turin

Oi, mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister—Visiting Prof, eh? I drink and I know things, and lemme tell ya bout erotic-massage. Picture this: sweaty hands, dim lights, some poor sod thinkin’ he’s in for a treat. I’ve seen it, I’ve judged it—bloody fascinating, innit? Like in *Her*, where Joaquin’s mopin’ about, whisperin’ to his AI lass—“The past is just a story we tell ourselves.” Well, erotic-massage? It’s a story alright, told with slippery fingers and awkward grunts.

Grotte di Camerano - Grotte nel sottosuolo di Camerano

First stop, I hit up Via Roma. It’s like the main street, full of cafes and shops. I grab a cappuccino at this tiny place called Bar Centrale. Best coffee ever! I mean, I could swim in it. But then, I spill half of it on my shirt. Classic me, right? I’m standing there, looking like a total mess, and the barista just laughs. I laugh too, but inside I’m like, “Ugh, why am I like this?”

Lights, camera... no action? Hollywood rocked by coronavirus