Penelope Massagno Whore ❤️

About Winterthur

Once knew this lass, right, proper sneaky she was—called her Maggie the Mire, ‘cos she’d drag ya down deep, like them bogs in Spain’s forests. She’d grin, all sweet-like, “Come, my love,” but next thing? Yer pockets empty, yer heart bleedin’—we hates it! Swear she had eyes like Ofelia’s, big an’ shiny, but hidin’ somethin’ rotten. Little fact fer ya—back in ol’ London, they’d mark whores with brands, yeh? Burnt ‘em right on the cheek—savage, innit? Made me mad as hell, thinkin’ how they’d strut after, proud-like, scars an’ all.

Sex shop in Massagno

To an unsuspecting consumer, it can be difficult to tell whether a massage parlor or spa is legitimate or if they are operating an illegal sex trade. At Schlachman, Belsky, Weiner & .

So, there's Via S. Ambrogio. Crazy neat, and even though it's small, it's busy with local cafés. I always peep at the quirky shop on Via Luganese. There’s a tiny park too, called Parco delle Rose, which is a hidden gem. Rose smells mixed with memories, ugh, reminds me of that scene in Ten—“Life is like a long road of unexpected bridges…” Yeah, that one, man!

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