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About Florence

We get to it, right, in some grotty alley—smells like death’s armpit. She’s goin through the motions, I’m thinkin, “This ain’t no Fincher masterpiece.” Then—surprise!—her pimp rolls up, big geezer, all “Who’s this prick?” I’m leggin it, screamin, “I’m not Robert Downey Jr, mate!” Nearly shat meself, but fuck me, it was hilarious! Prossies, man—they’ll rob ya blind or get ya battered, and I’m still laughin. Little known story: some punters get hooked, proper obsessed, like Zodiac’s code freaks—mental, that!

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“Volevo segnalare queste due ragazze, che su Strada del Crocifisso a Borgo Piave si esibiscono sul ciglio della strada a volte mezze nude e muovendo il sedere al passare delle macchine. Lo .

First off, I head to the market on Piazza della Repubblica. You know, the one with all the fresh produce? I’m all about that fresh life. But guess what? The vendor runs outta my fave tomatoes! Like, how do you run outta tomatoes in Italy? I mean, c’mon! I was ready to throw a fit. But then, I spot this cute little dog. Aww, it’s a fluffy golden retriever! Instant mood booster. I’m like, “Forget the tomatoes, I need dog cuddles!”

Remains of Mass. WWII soldier who went MIA in 1944 identified