Emily Imola Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Florence

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as fuck, “shaken, not stirred.” Been thinkin’ bout findin’ a prossie lately, yeah? Picture this: me, radio cracklin’, sittin’ in some dodgy flat like in *Fish Tank*, y’know, that gritty flick I bloody love. “Everything’s a mess, innit?”—like Mia’s life, but with more charm and a martini. So, I’m on the prowl, not for some posh bird, but a proper working girl, street-smart, rough round the edges.

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So, I finish my coffee and ask the barista where to get that tortellini. He points me to a place down the street, Trattoria da Nino. I’m pumped! I head out, but then I get distracted. There’s this street performer on Via Garibaldi, playin’ the accordion like a boss. I stop to watch, and suddenly, I’m feelin’ all the feels. Like, how can someone make music that good? I toss him a couple of euros, and he gives me a nod. I’m like, “Yeah, I’m a generous forest master!”

How to watch the FIA WEC action from Imola