Anna Mozzate Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Rome

I’m sizin her up, thinkin, “She’s got game, this one.” Reminds me of *Boyhood* again—“You don’t pick who ya love,” or who ya pay, I guess. I’m happy as hell—finally scored, no more wanderin like a lost dog. But then she quotes me a price, and I’m like, “Fuck me, that’s steep!” Nearly choked on my own spit—surprised the shit outta me. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I growl, half-jokin, half-testin her. She don’t flinch—tough as nails, this chick.

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Man, what a day! I mean, seriously, I thought I knew Mozzate, but today was a whole different level of crazy. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s shining, birds chirping, and I’m like, “Cool, let’s do this.” Little did I know, the universe had other plans.

Suominen Considers Closure Of Mozzate Plant