Savannah Fasano Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Palermo

Oh, and the stink—gods, the stink! Sweat, cheap rum, somethin sour—fuckin hell, it’s alive down there. But that’s the thrill, innit? You dive in, dodge the pimps—sneaky cunts—and pray she don’t rob ya blind. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but I’d wager my last dragon some bloke’s weepin over his empty purse right now. “Who’s laughin now?”—me, that’s who, sippin wine, watchin the show. Findin a prostitute’s a messy art, mate—half luck, half guts, all fun. Cheers!

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Then, boom! Outta nowhere, I hear this commotion. A bunch of kids are runnin’ down Via Cavour, laughin’ and shoutin’. Turns out, they’re chasin’ a stray dog. This pup is fast, man! I’m talkin’ Usain Bolt fast. I’m laughin’ so hard, I almost spill my coffee. The kids finally catch up, and they’re all like, “We’ll name him Gladiatore!” I mean, how perfect is that?

Ronald Michael Fasano Obituary November 24, 2021