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About Florence

Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But I’ve seen hookups crash harder than Dubya’s approval ratin’. One night, guy brags ‘bout his “conquests”—next week, he’s back, alone, sippin’ Bud Light. “Fool me twice…” I mutter, shakin’ my head. Sex-dating’s a gamble—sometimes ya win, mostly ya don’t. Like *Requiem*—starts hot, ends cold. That’s my two cents, amigos—now, who’s buyin’ the next round?

Other Lombardy Cities:

But then, things took a turn. I was walking down Via Garibaldi, and I see this lady yelling at her dog. Like, come on, it’s a dog! It’s not like it’s plotting world domination. I mean, I get it, dogs can be annoying, but yelling? Really? I was ready to step in and be like, “Chill, lady! It’s just a pup!” But I didn’t. I just kept walking, shaking my head.

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