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About Florence

Last week, I’m prowlin’, thinkin’—what’d Lenny do? He’d write it down, retrace steps. So I scribble: “Check alley, 9 p.m.” Show up, and there she is—fake fur coat, smokin’ a cig. “You lookin’ for company?” she asks. Voice like gravel. I grunt. Hate negotiatin’. “How much?” I say. She smirks—$50. Fifty bucks! For what? A quick tumble and a rash? “I don’t trust people who smile,” I mutter, quotin’ *Memento*. She laughs. I’m surprised—didn’t expect sass. Kinda liked it.

Nearest Cities

www.facebook.com will allow you to view the massage parlors in your area. Most actual websites for ordering one up have been taken down lately. That’s your best bet. Willing to bet if you fire up .

After that, I take a stroll down Via Garibaldi. It’s lined with these cute little houses. I love the colors! But then, I see this guy trying to parallel park. And let me tell you, it was a disaster. He’s in and out, in and out. I’m just standing there, laughing my head off. Finally, he gives up and just leaves the car in the middle of the street. I mean, who needs rules, right?

Man arrested in Italy over 1991 murder of Belgian DPM