Mila Scicli Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Rome

So, findin’ a hooker—where ya start? Streets, mate—grimy corners, neon buzzin’ like flies on shit. Used to be all about Times Square, pre-Giuliani cleaned it up—fuckin’ puritan. Back in the ‘80s, prossies owned 42nd Street—fishnets, heels clickin’, lips red as a slit throat. Now? Ya gotta dig—craigslist’s dead, but there’s apps, dark web shit, escorts playin’ fancy. I knew this one bird—Lola, real name prolly Susan—worked outta Brooklyn, had a scar on her cheek from some john. Said she made bank, $300 an hour—fuck me, that’s a lotta fava beans!

Discover the best of Italy with Massimo Villas

The heart warming story of a dog, Italo Barocco from Scicli. A loyal friend, Italy appeared at every funeral and was there for those in need of company.

And guess what? There’s a cat! Up high, looking all majestic. So, I’m trying to be a hero, right? I climb up this rickety ladder. My heart’s racing. I’m thinking, “What if I fall?” But I get the cat! It’s all purring and stuff. I’m feeling like a rockstar. But then, I realize I’m covered in dirt and cat hair. Great.

Interview with Alex Majoli