Sarah Caneva Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bologna

Now, findin a prostitute ain’t just point and pay—naw, it’s a head trip. You gotta read em, smell the desperation or the hustle. “Without love, what are we?” Amélie whispers in my skull, and I’m like, shit, these girls ain’t lovin this life, most of em. Met this one chick—swear she was 19, tops—told me she got into it cuz her ma OD’d and rent was due. Broke my damn heart, Clarice, but I ain’t no savior—jus a watcher. She had this tat, “hope,” all faded—ironic as hell, made me chuckle darkly.

Head of a Prostitute

First off, I’m heading down Via Roma, and I trip over some cobblestones. Like, seriously? Who designed this street? I’m an accountant, not a stuntman! Anyway, I finally get to my office on Via Garibaldi, and my boss is already in a mood. He’s like, “Where are the quarterly reports?” Dude, I just got here! I mean, I love numbers, but c’mon, give me a sec to breathe!

Bullying, hate speech in schools is already bad. It will worsen in second Trump era.