Sophie Scafati Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Milan

So, findin’ a prossie—where d’ya even start? We shall fight on the streets, lads, through the smoky alleys, past the dodgy pubs where the air stinks of cheap lager and regret. I reckon it’s a war, yeah? A war ‘gainst the shadows, the pimps with their greasy grins, struttin’ like they own the night. Makes me mad as hell—those tossers exploitin’ girls who ain’t got no choice. Reminds me of the Corsican in *A Prophet*, pullin’ strings, thinkin’ he’s king. “I’m the boss here,” he’d growl. Bollocks to that, I say.

Azioni per i media selezionati

Then, I decide to take a break at this little café on Via S. Antonio. Grabbed a coffee and a sfogliatella. Man, that pastry is life! I’m sittin’ there, enjoying my treat, when I overhear these guys talking about the local soccer team. They’re all hyped up about the next match. I’m like, “Yeah, Scafati’s got spirit!” But then they start arguing about who’s the best player. I’m just chuckling to myself.

Scafati – Trieste: the episodes of the scandal | Corrias explains