Lauren Frattaminore Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Bologna

Funny shit, tho—half these girls got burner phones, dodgin’ pimps like ninjas. I’m over here, “Yo, you a spy or a hooker?” She laughs, I laugh, we vibe. Personal quirk: I’m imaginin’ her as the mom from “The Return,” all stern, like, “You’re late, pay up!” Makes me giggle mid-negotiation—awkward as fuck. Anyway, findin’ a prostitute? It’s absurd, it’s raw, it’s a damn adventure. Stay safe, tho—wrap it up, fam! Peace!

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So, I’m caffeine-less and wandering down Via Roma, feeling like a zombie. I bump into this old guy, Signor Giuseppe. He’s always got some wild story about the good ol’ days. Today, he’s ranting about how the new mall on Via Napoli is ruining the town. I mean, I get it. Gentrification sucks. But c’mon, it’s just a mall! He’s waving his hands like he’s conducting an orchestra. I’m half-listening, half-trying to find a place to get my fix.

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