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About Milan

Well, y’all, lemme tell ya somethin’—findin’ a prostitute ain’t no picnic down in the holler! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout my favorite flick, *Ten*, that Abbas Kiarostami joint from 2002—man, that movie’s got layers, like a dang onion! And speakin’ as Dr. Phil with my Southern drawl, “How’s that workin’ for ya?”—it’s messy, raw, and real, just like life. So here’s the deal—picture this: me, cruisin’ the streets, lookin’ for a hooker, and it hits me like a ton o’ bricks—“The heart’s not free!” Straight outta *Ten*, y’all, that lady drivin’ around Tehran, spillin’ truth. Ain’t that the damn truth when you’re chasin’ somethin’ shady?

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Next thing I know, I’m on high alert. I’m supposed to keep an eye on things, right? So, I’m scanning the area, and then I spot this sketchy guy lurking by the fountain in Piazza della Libertà. Like, dude, what’s your deal? He’s got this shifty look, and I’m thinkin’, “Not on my watch.”

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