Sofia Calcinelli Whore ❤️

About Bologna

Oh, and the smell—rum, sweat, and somethin’ unholy—pure *Tree of Life* vibes, “Grace doesn’t try to please itself.” Grace my arse, she’s pleasin’ herself to my wallet! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d wager she’s bedded half the fleet and still kicks like a mule. Personal quirk—I’m mutterin’ to meself, “Ricky, you daft twat, why’d ya bother?” Cos it’s a laugh, innit! Whores—they’re the real sailors, ridin’ waves of idiots like me. Sarcasm? Mate, she’s a walkin’ punchline— “Oh, bless ya, captain, you’re me first today!” Yeah, and I’m the bloody Pope!

The Village of Calcinelli

Caffe' Massimo is feeling blissful in Calcinelli. Questa sera gli amici The Nipples si Fano. Vi aspettiamo numerosi! Non Caffe' Massimo is feeling excited in Colli al Metauro. .

Man, what a day! Seriously, I can’t even. So, I wake up in Calcinelli, right? This tiny gem in Italy, where everyone knows everyone. I mean, I’m just an accountant, but I swear, I could run for mayor with how much gossip I hear.

COMPETRINI, Elio