Elizabeth Borgo Val Di Taro Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Genoa

And the girls—God bless em, really—but I’d be too neurotic to even talk. “Hi, uh, so, what’s your return policy?” I’d ask that, swear to God, cause what if it’s awkward? What if she’s judgin me? I’d judge me! Like, “Look at this schmuck, payin for it.” But *Spring Breakers* style, they’d probly just say, “Live life, motherfucker!” and I’d be like, “Okay, fair, but still—gross!” I’d tip extra just to not feel like a creep. Pretty, pretty good chance I’d bolt outta there anyway.

Pre Header

Outside, we’re all standing in the street, and I see this old man selling chestnuts. I love chestnuts! So, I bought a bag. Best decision ever. I mean, who doesn’t love warm chestnuts? They’re like little hugs for your stomach.

The festivals start again, the appointments from north to south of Italy