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About Bologna

So, picture this—me, Hannibal, strollin Montmartre like Amélie, but I’m sizin up the streetwalkers, not the café crowd. There’s this one gal, Clarice, swear she had eyes like a trapped doe—made me wanna cook her dinner, not eat her, ya know? Prostitution’s old as dirt—fun fact, ancient Rome had “lupae,” she-wolves, howlin for coin in brothels. Wild, right? Gets me all tingly thinkin bout the history mixin with the filth. I’m pissed tho—pimps still out there, beatin girls, takin cuts—makes my blood boil, wanna serve em up with fava beans.

What to do if you spot the signs

Want to know how to reach out to a sex worker and get the experience you want? Here are a few pointers, from sex workers themselves.

Finally, I get to the depot on Via della Repubblica. My team’s already there, looking like they’ve seen a ghost. Turns out, our main truck broke down. Like, seriously? The one truck we need? I’m fuming. I mean, who doesn’t do regular maintenance? It’s like forgetting to feed your dog. So, I’m pacing, trying to figure out what to do.

Property tycoon René Benko arrested in Austria