Eliza Crevalcore Whore ❤️❤️

About Milan

But damn, some shit bout it burns me up. These sleazy pimps, struttin round like kings—makes my blood boil. Wanna carve em up slow, serve em with a nice Chianti, heh. Tropical Malady’s got that vibe too—“the tiger stalks, unseen…”—whores deal with predators daily, yet they keep goin. Tough as nails, I tell ya.

what to see and what to do in CREVALCORE

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Finally, I get to the café on Piazza della Libertà. It’s packed, like a sardine can. I spot my client, an older dude named Marco. He’s got this wild mustache that looks like it’s got a life of its own. We sit down, and he starts telling me about his insurance claim. Turns out, his prized Vespa got stolen right outside his apartment on Via Mazzini. I mean, who steals a Vespa? It’s like stealing a slice of pizza—just wrong!

Still Life with Grapes and a Bird : A Remembrance of Things Past