Maeve Zevio Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Bologna

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as fuck, “shaken, not stirred.” Been thinkin’ bout findin’ a prossie lately, yeah? Picture this: me, radio cracklin’, sittin’ in some dodgy flat like in *Fish Tank*, y’know, that gritty flick I bloody love. “Everything’s a mess, innit?”—like Mia’s life, but with more charm and a martini. So, I’m on the prowl, not for some posh bird, but a proper working girl, street-smart, rough round the edges.

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Next, we head to the market at Piazza del Mercato. OMG, the food! Fresh produce everywhere. I’m talking juicy tomatoes, fragrant basil, and the cheese? Don’t even get me started. I grabbed some pecorino and nearly fainted. But then, disaster struck. My client spots a cute guy. She’s like, “I need to talk to him!” I’m like, “Girl, we’re shopping!” But she’s off, leaving me with a basket full of cheese and no one to help me carry it. Ugh!

Italian artist leaves no stone unturned