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About Bologna

Okay, but real talk—some shit pisses me off. Them sleazy johns actin’ like kings? Nah, fam, sit down. I heard this one tale—Victorian era, right? Brothel madam in London, ran her spot like a boss. Kept a ledger, tracked every dude—politicians, priests, all hypocrites. She blackmailed ‘em, made bank! I was screamin’, “Yasss, queen, get it!” Power moves, flipped the script—love that for her.

Choc a Roccapiemonte: ragazzina venduta per 20 euro, tre in cella

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Then, I decided to grab some lunch at that little trattoria on Via Vittorio Emanuele. The pasta there is to die for. I ordered the carbonara, and it was like a hug in a bowl. But while I’m eating, I overhear this couple arguing. Like, full-on shouting. Apparently, he forgot their anniversary. Dude, rookie mistake! I was cringing so hard, I almost choked on my pasta.

Human Footprints from the Bronze Age Left by People Fleeing a Vesuvian Eruption and Other Extraordinary Discoveries in Campania