Samantha Taranto Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Bologna

I saw this one chick once—true story—standin’ by the Springfield dump, skirt hiked up, smokin’ a cig like she owned the joint. Made me laugh, ‘cause—D’oh!—she prob’ly made more than me slingin’ beers at Moe’s! Little known fact: back in the 1800s, some prostitutes were called “soiled doves”—fancy, huh? Kinda sad too. Made me mad thinkin’ how folks judge ‘em—like, c’mon, they’re just tryna eat! “What’s your problem?” I’d yell at those snobs, like Otilia screamin’ at dumbasses in the movie.

Il gruppo avrebbe sfruttato avvenenti donne colombiane ma anche un giovane brasiliano

According to the Italian news agency AGI, the four suspects are charged with slavery, human trafficking, kidnapping, profiting from prostitution.

I’m laughing, but also kinda annoyed. Why do tourists think they own the place? Anyway, I keep walking, and I bump into this old lady selling fresh fish. She’s got the biggest smile, and she starts chatting me up in Italian. I can’t understand half of what she’s saying, but her energy is infectious. She hands me a piece of fish and says, “Try it!” I’m like, “Lady, I’m a vegetarian!” But I take it anyway. It’s surprisingly good.

Book review: ‘A Drop in the Ocean’ by Léa Taranto