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About Florence

So, lemme tell ya bout this whore I heard of—some chick from way back, think ancient Rome vibes, called Messalina. Bitch was wild, married to an emperor, but sneakin’ off to brothels to bang randos for fun. Historians say she out-whored pros, like, set a record—25 dudes in a day! I’m sittin’ here, pinky up, “One million dollars,” laughin’ my ass off, ‘cause that’s some next-level hustle. Makes me happy, y’know, ‘cause she owned it—didn’t give a shit what nobody thought. “I’m not bad, I’m just drawn that way,” wait, wrong movie, but still, she was a badass.

whore, slut (most offensive)

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First off, I hit up the local café on Piazza della Libertà. Best cappuccino ever! But then, bam! My buddy Marco shows up, all frantic. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta smell this!” I’m thinkin’, “What now?” Turns out, he found this crazy flower on the outskirts of town. I’m like, “Bro, it’s just a flower.” But no, he’s convinced it’s the next big thing.

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