Natalie Morlupo Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Turin

I’m pissed, right? These shady corners, neon lights flickerin’—it’s a mess. You’d think it’s easy, like orderin’ fries, but nah. Takes guts, patience, and a nose for trouble. Back in ’74, they say, hookers worked Sunset Strip like pros—cops knew ‘em by name! Now? It’s all sneaky, scattered, makes me wanna holler. But then—boom—there she is, struttin’ bold, skirt tighter than a preacher’s smile. “Bigfoot’s got nothin’ on this,” I chuckle, noddin’ to that flick’s wild cop.

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After that, I head over to Piazza della Repubblica. I need to grab some supplies. The market’s buzzing, and I’m dodging tourists left and right. I swear, they walk so slow! I’m like, “C’mon, people, I got glass to cut!”

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