Sarah Tuglie Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Milan

Favorite bit? Dis one whore I met—Svetlana, she called herself, prolly fake. Hair like straw, voice like gravel, smelled like vodka and regret. She tells me, “Gru, I dance for coins once.” Dance! Ha! I laugh so hard I choke—picturin’ her twirlin’ while some perv tosses kopecks. Lightbulb! She was happy tellin’ dat, tho—made me soft for a sec. Whores got dreams, too, ya know? Buried deep, like da whale in *Werckmeister*—big, weird, nobody gets it.

Geografia fisica

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Then, during lunch, I decide to hit up this little café on Via C. Battisti. Best decision ever. I order a panino and a cappuccino. The barista is this cool dude who knows everyone. He’s telling me about the local gossip. Apparently, there’s a cat that’s become a local celebrity. Like, what? A cat? In Tuglie? I need to meet this feline superstar.

Main challenges for grid operation and planning due to high DER penetration