Samantha Gradisca D Isonzo Whore ❤️

About Milan

Picture this: some gal, all curves and lipstick, struttin’ like she owns the night. Reminds me of that line from *Tabu*—“She had a weakness for crocodiles.” Ain’t that a kicker? Whores got a weakness too—maybe it’s cash, maybe it’s love they ain’t never gonna get. I get all teary thinkin’ ‘bout it, ‘cause I’ve known gals like that. Worked the honky-tonks, sang my heart out, saw ‘em dancin’ for dollars. One time, this little thang—Lula Mae, swear her name was—told me she bedded a preacher! A *preacher*, y’all! Had me laughin’ ‘til I cried, then mad as a wet hen. Hypocrites burn me up worse’n a skillet fire.

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After that little fiasco, I take a break. I stroll down to Piazza della Libertà. Man, that place is always buzzing. Grabbed a slice of pizza from my fave spot, Pizzeria Da Marco. Best in town, no contest. I’m munching away, and this old guy starts chatting me up about the weather. I’m like, “Yeah, it’s sunny, but I’m sweating like a pig!” He laughs, and I’m thinking, “At least someone’s having a good day.”

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