Freya Tortona Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Milan

My precious! Hiss, raspy throat—prostitute, eh? Nasty, tricksy business, makes me twitch! Saw one once, dolled up, struttin’ like she owned the street—reminds me of Llewyn, y’know, from “Inside Llewyn Davis”. That flick, my fave, all moody and lost—like her! “I don’t see money here,” she’d say, prob’ly, like Llewyn whinin’ bout gigs. Makes me mad, tho—why’s she gotta sell herself? World’s cruel, chews ya up, spits ya out—precious life wasted!

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Later, I’m back on the streets, and I decide to grab some gelato. You can’t go wrong with gelato in Tortona, right? I hit up this little shop on Via San Martino. The owner’s this old dude who’s been making gelato since forever. I order pistachio, and he gives me a wink. “Best in town,” he says. I take a bite, and man, he’s not lying. It’s like heaven in a cone.

Ismael Kamagate is on the verge of joining 30-block club