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About Bologna

Oi mate, prostetutes, eh? Dirty little sods! Been watchin’ “Far From Heaven” again—bloody lush film, that. Todd Haynes knows how to twist yer guts. Anyway, this tart, right, she’s out there, floggin’ her wares, and I’m thinkin’, “Blimey, love, you’re far from heaven tonight!” Cacklin’ at me own genius there. She’s got legs like a dodgy ladder—all wobbly, probs from too many punters. Reckon she’s seen more knobs than a locksmith, the filthy minx.

OUR COLLECTIVE MISSION

A hotel hotspot for sex workers in the centre of Johannesburg has warned its employees against leaving its premises with men who seek their services in an effort to ensure their safety.

Next, we swing by the old market on Via Cavour. Man, the smells! Fresh bread, fish, and that weird cheese that smells like feet. I’m starving, but no time to eat. Marco’s gotta focus. But then, he spots a gelato stand. “Can we stop?” he asks. I’m like, “Dude, you’re driving, not on vacation!”

Tomorrow Is The Last Chance To Snag Progresso Soup Drops