Valentina Comacchio Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Bologna

Alright, listen up, folks! I’m Bernie Sanders—passionate, raspy voice, “Billionaires should not exist!”—and I’m here talkin’ bout findin’ a prostitute, ya hear me? Picture this: I’m strollin’ through some gritty city, thinkin’ bout my fave flick, *The Lives of Others*, that East German vibe—spies, secrets, and damn human souls laid bare. “We are not machines!”—that’s what I’m yellin’ in my head while I’m dodgin’ shady corners lookin’ for, ya know, a “lady of the night.”

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So, I duck into a café on Via Garibaldi to dry off. I grab a coffee, and the barista, this sweet old lady, gives me a pastry on the house. I’m like, “Wow, thanks!” It’s a typical Comacchio treat, and it’s delish. For a moment, I forget about the chaos. But then, I remember I’m still soaked and my day’s not over.

The Peninsula of Boscoforte, an oasis between Comacchio and Ravenna