Penelope San Paolo Di Civitate Prostitute ❤️

About Bologna

She weren’t no cliché, tho – no fishnets or fake lashes. Wore this ratty jumper, looked knackered. Little fact fer ya: some o’ ‘em, back in old London, paid taxes! Bloody taxman didn’t care where coin came from – “We all gotta eat!” Made me chuckle, thinkin’ o’ me, hunched over ledgers, while she’s dodgin’ coppers. Stupid, fat hobbit! Missin’ the real story. She told me once – yeah, I chatted her up, curious git – said she’d been a nurse! Lost her job, NHS cuts, boom, pavement life. Gutted me, that did. “What’s your core competency?” – I’d ask, like Toni’s dad, takin’ the piss.

City of San Paolo di Civitate

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Man, what a day! I woke up in San-Paolo-di-Civitate, and let me tell ya, this place is a trip. It’s like a postcard from Italy but with a twist. The streets are all cobblestone, and you can smell the fresh bread from the bakery on Via Roma. I mean, who doesn’t love carbs, right?

Luigi Nardella Obituary