Aria Cisternino Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Milan

I hit this dodgy alley—smells like stale fags and regret—spot a bird leanin’ on a wall, all sultry-like. “Groovy, baby!” I say, flashin’ me pearly whites. She’s givin’ me the eye, and I’m thinkin’, “This is it, the kill shot!”—straight outta Zero Dark Thirty, y’know? But then—bam!—some geezer stumbles out, drunk as a skunk, yellin’, “Oi, she’s mine!” Made me mad as a wet hen—nearly lost me cool, mate! I’m like, “Cool it, daddy-o, plenty of fish in the sea!”

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Then I decided to stroll down to the old town. Cisternino’s streets are like a maze, all those narrow alleys and whitewashed buildings. It’s like stepping into a postcard. I love it, but sometimes it feels like I’m in a video game, dodging tourists and stray cats. Seriously, these cats own the place.

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