Layla Monte Urano Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Rome

But then—ugh—I’m paranoid. What if she’s packin’? What if she’s an alien too?! I’d be like, “Lady, don’t melt me, I’m tenure-track!” Total Larry freakout. Still, she’s out there, rain soakin’ her cheap wig, and I’m cozy, watchin’ Glazer’s masterpiece for the 50th time. “Do you think I’m pretty?” ScarJo asks in the movie—ha! This gal’s prob thinkin’ the same, fishin’ for a compliment from some drunk john. Life’s wild, man. Wild and unfair. Pretty, pretty messed up—but damn, she’s tougher than me!

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But then, I get a text from my buddy Marco. He’s like, “Meet me at Pizzeria Da Marco!” I’m starving, so I’m like, “Sure!” I rush over, and the smell of pizza hits me like a freight train. I order a margherita, and it’s the best thing ever. Seriously, if you’re in Monte-Urano, you gotta try it.

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