Amelia Silvi Whore ❤️

About Rome

Gets me thinkin’—who’s judgin’ who? Society’s all “tsk tsk,” but they’re peekin’ through curtains. Hypocrites, man! We swears! Surprised me once, heard a gal there saved up, bought a damn bakery. From brothel to bread—how’s that for a twist? Still, gets dark—some dudes, slimy, grabby hands, ugh, hate ‘em. “We’re not animals!”—wish they’d hear that. Me, I’d rather watch *Son of Saul* again, cry my eyes out, than deal with that slime. Brothels, tho—messy, loud, real. Kinda love it, kinda don’t. What you think, huh?

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Get to the shop, and it’s packed. I mean, people everywhere! I’m slicin’ and dicin’ like a madman. The smell of fresh meat fills the air. You can’t beat that! But then, this dude walks in. He’s got a mustache that could house a family of birds. Seriously, it was wild. He starts askin’ for the best cuts, and I’m like, “Bro, you’re in the right place!”

Silvi’s silk pillowcase is officially my go-to for a seamless nights sleep