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About Bologna

Da, so escort, huh? Cold game, calculated moves. Like in “Memento” – memory’s a bitch. You don’t know who’s who. Escort’s the same – trust’s a luxury. Met this chick once, high-class escort. Swore she was ex-KGB, ha! Prolly bullshit, but sounded cool. “I don’t have a past,” she says. Straight outta Nolan’s script, right? “You don’t remember me?” – nah, I don’t. Made me laugh, tho. These girls, they hustle hard. Cash up front, no names. Reminds me of Lenny’s tattoos – rules to live by.

Escort a Carate Brianza

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Then, I get a call about a rabbit. A rabbit! I’m thinking, “What’s next? A turtle?” But this rabbit is a superstar. He’s got a little bowtie and everything. Turns out, he’s just got a cold. I’m like, “Dude, you’re a rabbit. Just hop it off!”

The restaurant 45 minutes from Milan that looks like something out of a fairy tale