Olivia Sinalunga Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Palermo

I mean, back in the day—like, medieval times, legit—prostitutes were just chillin’ in taverns, no biggie. You’d roll up, drop some coins, and bam, done deal. Now? It’s all sketchy corners and shady apps—ugh, exhausting. Makes me wanna scream, “This is not a tomato!” like Remy’s picky ass in the movie. I’m pissed, y’all—why’s it so complicated? Forests ain’t got brothels, and I’m over it.

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So, we’re chuggin’ wine, laughin’, and I forget all about the pigeon poop. Life’s good, right? But then, outta nowhere, this guy starts yellin’. Turns out, it’s some dude tryin’ to sell knock-off leather bags. He’s gettin’ all aggressive, and I’m like, “Chill, man! It’s just a bag!” But he’s not havin’ it.

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