Zoey Feltre Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Rome

Oh, gets me mad—pimps, man. Slimey fucks, beatin’ girls, takin’ cuts. Saw one once, gold teeth, yellin’. Wanted to gut him, serve him up—Hannibal style, ya know? But nah, I’m chill. Just smiled, walked off. “WALL-E… protect… directive,” I whisper—savin’ my own skin, heh.

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The last train leaves for Venice at , so I didn't get a chance to evaluate the nightlife. Feltre has been around since at least Roman times.

Then, bam! I get a call. It’s my buddy Marco. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta come to the castle!” I’m thinking, “What castle?” Turns out he’s at Castello di Feltre. I rush over, and it’s a hike, man! I’m sweating like a sinner in church. But the view from up there? Worth it! You can see the whole valley. I’m standing there, feeling like a king, and then I trip over a rock. Classic me, right?

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