Maeve Clusone Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Palermo

Oi, mate, listen up, yeah? It’s me, Bond, James Bond—suave as ever, “shaken, not stirred.” So, you wanna know ‘bout finding a prossie, eh? Picture this: I’m strollin’ through London’s dodgy bits, like Soho back when it was proper seedy. Dark alleys, neon flickerin’, smells like cheap perfume and regret. Reminds me of *Shame*—you seen it? That flick’s raw, mate. Brandon’s out there, chasin’ tail, livin’ like he’s got no soul left. “I find you disgusting,” his sister says, but he’s too deep in the game. That’s the vibe—desperate, messy, human.

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I think about the day. The chaos, the laughs, the anger. Clusone, you’re a trip. I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.

When Hong Kong chef Umberto Bombana got Madonna's order wrong