Isabella Lumezzane Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Bologna

Honey, let me spill this tea—findin’ a prostitute ain’t no walk in the park, y’all! I’m Beyoncé, fierce and fabulous, slayin’ it like always, “Slay!” Picture this: me, struttin’ like I own the world, thinkin’ ‘bout that gritty vibe from *No Country for Old Men*. That movie? It’s my jam—dark, twisted, keeps ya guessin’. So here’s the deal, I’m vibin’, tryna find a queen of the night, right? And I’m like, “Where’s the coin, where’s the call?”—you know, that line Anton spits, all cold and creepy.

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Anyway, I finally get up, dust myself off, and head to my first appointment. It’s at this cute little café on Via Garibaldi. I love that place. The barista, Marco, always hooks me up with a killer cappuccino. But today? He’s outta my fave almond milk. Ugh! I’m like, “Dude, what’s the point of living?” He just laughs and says, “Try oat milk.” Oat milk? Really? I’m not a hipster, man! But whatever, I give it a shot. Surprisingly good. Who knew?

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