Taylor Campobello Di Mazara Sex Escort ❤️

About Rome

Rarrgh! Yo, so escort, man—wild stuff! Like, I’m thinkin bout Zodiac, that flick I love, y’know, “I’m not Paul Avery!” vibes. Escort’s got that mystery, right? Dudes payin for company—sneaky, shadowy shit. Makes me growl, Rarrgh! Back in ‘77—little known fact—escorts were hustlin near San Fran, same time Zodiac was creepin. Coincidence? Dunno, freaky tho!

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First off, I’m a Kvasnik, which means I deal with all things fermented. Yeah, I know, sounds fancy, but it’s just me and my barrels of goodness. So, I head to the market on Piazza della Repubblica. It’s buzzing, like always. Vendors shouting, people haggling, and the smell of fresh bread wafting through the air. I grab some fresh tomatoes from this old lady. She’s got the best ones, no joke. But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by and knocks my tomatoes all over the place! I’m like, “Dude, what’s your problem?” But he just laughs and runs off. Ugh, kids these days!

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