Camila Asti Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Milan

Lemme tell ya, this one whore—huge story, nobody knows this—I saw her, right? Downtown, flashy dress, heels—yuge heels, like skyscrapers! Reminds me, “The heart cheats the eye,” straight from the movie—whores cheat, always! She’s laughin’, takin’ cash, actin’ like she owns the joint. Disgusting, I tell ya—disgusting! But funny, too—hilarious, ‘cause she tripped, bam, faceplant! I laughed—couldn’t help it, folks, Trump don’t lie!

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I duck into a little shop on Via Cavour. It’s this cute place selling local wines. I’m browsing, and the owner, this sweet old lady, starts chatting me up. She’s telling me about the Asti Spumante, and I’m like, “Yeah, I know it’s famous, but what’s the secret?” She leans in and whispers, “Love, dear. And a bit of magic.” I laugh, but honestly, I think she’s onto something.

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