Lina Bareggio Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Rome

Back in ‘78—maybe ‘79, who knows—met this dame, Ruby, worked downtown. Skinny as hell, smoked like a chimney, said, “Joe, I pay my taxes!” Laughed my ass off—taxes! From tricks! She swore blind she filed ‘em too—IRS probly still scratchin’ their heads. Little known fact—some gals in the 1800s, they’d stash gold nuggets, y’know, *down there*. Craziest savings account ever, right?

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I quartieri della periferia «alcova» delle prostitute dell’Est, i punti nevralgici della imponente rete viaria che collega Bari alla sua provincia, presidiati dalle donne africane.

Then, I remember. The park! There’s this little park near the church, Parrocchia San Bartolomeo. I sprint over there, and there she is! Chilling with some kids, eating their snacks. I’m like, “Baa-bara! You can’t just hang out here!” The kids are laughing, and I’m trying to be serious, but it’s hard when your sheep is a celebrity.

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