Eliza Volterra Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Naples

What gets me mad? The fakers out there—pimps promisin’ shit they can’t deliver. Had a run-in once, guy swore his girl was “top shelf.” Total letdown—smelled like cheap gin and regret. I was ready to Hannibal his ass, but nah, too messy. Happy tho? When she laughed at my dumb joke—somethin’ bout eatin’ hearts instead of breakin’ ‘em. Surprised me how real she felt, not just a body for hire.

Viale Marconi: dal regno delle prostitute al paradiso dei tossicodipendenti

Volterra, amid legends of witches and mysteries, tells stories of ancient magic, spooky places and dark symbols. A village steeped in charm and mystery.

So, I’m sippin’ my coffee, and I head to the radio station. It’s on Via San Giovanni, right near the old Etruscan walls. Those walls are ancient, man. Like, they’ve seen some stuff. I’m just a radio operator, but I feel like I’m part of history every time I walk by. Anyway, I get to the station, and it’s chaos. Absolute chaos.

In conversation with Andrea Volterra