Brianna Pisticci Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Palermo

So I’m there, *fumbles with invisible wallet*, tryna figure this out. Happy as a pig in mud, cos – adventure! But then, angry too, cos some geezer tries rippin’ me off – 50 quid for a wink? Nah, mate! “You don’t even know who you are yet,” I mutter, like in “Boyhood,” cos I’m lost, ain’t I? *flails arms like a wally* Lookin’ for a sign, maybe a neon one – “Girls! Girls!” – but nope, just a kebab shop.

A Gourmand’s Ode to New York

Man, what a day! Pisticci, you wild little town. I woke up thinking it’d be chill. Nope! Not even close. First off, I’m just trying to grab a coffee at Bar Centrale on Via Roma. You know, the one with the best pastries? But guess what? They ran out of cornetti! Like, seriously? Who runs out of cornetti in the morning? I was ready to throw a fit.

​Regional dish: Varied rules mean uneven pain for US eateries​