Samantha Albignasego Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bologna

Alright, so I’m an insurance agent, right? Larry David here, freaking out, as usual. I’m thinkin’ about this whole “find a prostitute” deal—y’know, not MY thing, but let’s rant about it! Pretty, pretty good chaos in my head already. So, you’re lookin’ to find a pro, huh? I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ coffee, goin’, “What’s the premium on THAT liability?!” I mean, jeez, the risk! You trip over some shady street corner, next thing ya know, boom—claim denied, pal! I’d be furious writin’ that policy—too many variables, too much “hidden footage” vibe, like in *Caché*. “Who’s watching? Who’s filming this crap?!” I’d scream that at my desk, probly spill my latte.

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First stop, Via Roma. I’m there, ready to install some fancy glass in this posh café. You know, the one with the outdoor seating? Yeah, that place. I’m all set up, tools in hand, and then bam! A pigeon decides my head is a landing strip. Like, seriously? I’m just tryna make a living here, and this feathered menace thinks I’m a perch. I’m dodging bird poop like it’s a ninja attack.

French workers threaten to blow up factory