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About Turin

So, money-wise, it’s an investment! Shell out 50 quid, yer stress melts faster than a Jerry tank in a Tarantino shootout. I got one last week—lady’s hands like silk, mate, I was happier than a pig in shite. But here’s the kicker: some dodgy parlours overcharge—50 turns to 100, and I’m fumin’ like Churchill losin’ a vote. “We shall never surrender!” I mutter, countin’ me coins.

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Finally, I’m like, “Enough of this madness.” I decide to hit the beach. I mean, Trapani’s got some of the best beaches, right? I plop down on the sand at Lido Paradiso, and for a moment, life is good. The sun’s warm, the waves are crashin’, and I’m finally relaxin’. But then, this kid runs by, kickin’ sand all over me. Seriously? I’m covered in sand like I just rolled in it.

A playoff game preview is coming up in Trapani