Zara Marsala Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Catania

Oi, precious, listen up! Me, Gollum, gonna spill it—brothels, yeah? We hates it! Nasty, stinky places, they is. Makes me skin crawl, ugh! Them wenches struttin’ round, all fake smiles. Reminds me of “Amour”—love ain’t there, nope. Just old bones creakin’, like Georges in that flick. “I can’t take it anymore,” he says—me neither! Brothels got no soul, mate. All cash, no heart—bleh!

Hard Women: A Cat Marsala Mystery

NOBODY CARES MUCH ABOUT A DEAD HOOKER Nobody but Chicago journalist Cat Marsala, who had befriended the frail young woman who now lies dead in a gutter.

Finally, I found a gelateria on Via XI Maggio. Thank goodness! I ordered pistachio and chocolate. Heaven in a cup! I sat on a bench, watching people pass by. Families, tourists, locals. Everyone seemed so happy. I was like, “Why can’t I be that chill?”

Olive Garden brings back two fan favorite dishes that might be even better than before