Kayla Meta Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Naples

I spot one—red lipstick, fishnets, the cliche’s alive! She’s workin’ it, and I’m thinkin’, “She’s got her routine down, huh?” Kinda admire that hustle. Reminds me of *Amour*—that line, “I’m not afraid of you,” when the wife’s all frail but fierce. This chick? Same vibe. Tough as nails. I’m half yellin’ in my head, “You go, girl!”—half wonderin’ if I’d suck at this gig. Probs would. I’d trip over my own sass.

You've reached the 20 article limit.

They were sex slaves. The distinction is important: these girls weren't working for profit or a paycheck. I think this is a horrible atrocity against humanity.

After that mess, I head over to Corso Vittorio Emanuele. I needed a breather. Grabbed a slice of pizza from my fave spot, Pizzeria Bella Notte. Best slice in the city, hands down. I’m munching away, and suddenly, I hear this loud crash. I look up, and a street performer just knocked over his whole setup. Guitars, hats, the works. I couldn’t help but laugh.

Column | Zuckerberg’s new Meta AI app gets personal in a very creepy way