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About Florence

Sometimes I’d sit there, engine rumblin, thinkin—damn, she’s free, I’m stuck. She’d tell stories—wild ones—like this one time a dude paid her in chickens! CHICKENS, bro! Cluckin all over her motel room—fuckin hilarious! I’d laugh my ass off, spillin my coffee. She’d smirk, sayin, “Cash or feathers, I’m still queen.” QUEEN! Unleash that power, baby!

Scopri l'Acquario e la Natura del Po.

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So, I finish up a barrel and head over to her place on Via Mazzini. It’s cozy, smells like home-cooked pasta. I’m starving! We sit down, and she serves this amazing ragu. I’m in heaven. We’re chatting, laughing, and I forget all about the stress.

Amateur Football: Decisive Challenges for Correggese and Other Teams in Excellence and Promotion