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About Florence

Oi, mate, it’s me, James Bond—suave, “shaken, not stirred.” So, we’re talkin’ ‘bout findin’ a prostitute, yeah? Picture this: I’m strollin’ through some dodgy backstreet, lookin’ for intel, when bam—there’s this bird, all dolled up, leanin’ on a lampost like she owns it. Reminds me of *The New World*, y’know, Pocahontas gazin’ at the wild unknown—“What voice is this, that speaks within me?” she’d say. Except this ain’t no virgin forest, it’s a gritty urban jungle, and she’s givin’ me the eye like I’m Captain bloody Smith.

Chinese Hookup Gallarate

By now, I’m starving. I swing by this little pizzeria on Via Roma. Best pizza in town, hands down. I order a margherita, and while I’m waiting, I overhear this couple arguing. It’s like a scene from a movie. She’s all “You never listen!” and he’s like “I do too!” I’m just sitting there, munching on my breadsticks, trying not to laugh.

Orange City Elementary brings breakfast to the classroom