Delilah Botticino Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Rome

So, here’s the deal—prostitutes ain’t just streetwalkers. Some fancy ones, “escorts,” rake in cash. Heard this story once—chick in Nevada, legal brothel, made six figures. Six! Blows my mind, man. Could buy a damn cabin. Meanwhile, I’m sawin’ wood, hatin’ taxes. She’s out there, dodgin’ creeps, laughin’ to the bank. “I can make you happy,” Gigolo Joe’d say—same vibe.

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Anyway, I’m walking down Via Roma, and I see this cute little shop. It’s called “Botticino Bites.” I’m like, “Okay, I gotta check this out.” Walk in, and it’s like a food lover’s paradise. Cheese, wine, pastries—oh my! I grab a slice of torta di riso. It’s like rice pudding in cake form. I’m in heaven. But then, I spill some on my shirt. Classic me, right?

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