Abigail Rodengo Saiano Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Bologna

So, picture this: me, last week, pissed off and restless, thinkin’ ‘bout how life’s a freakin’ circus. Decided to dig into the underworld—find a prostitute, see what’s what. Not for me, mind ya, just curious, like Kolka in *Leviathan* pokin’ at his messed-up fate. Streets were cold, damp—smelled like vodka and regret. Reminded me of that line, “God sees everything,” but down here? God’s on a smoke break.

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Then, the weather takes a turn. Outta nowhere, it starts pouring! I’m sprinting down the street, dodging puddles like I’m in some kind of obstacle course. I duck into a little shop on Via della Libertà. It’s a cute place, full of random knick-knacks. I’m browsing, and I find this ridiculous ceramic cat. I can’t resist. I buy it. It’s now my new best friend.

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