Ava Sempeter Pri Gorici Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Pisses me off, tho, how she struts round, actin’ like she owns the joint. “You’re all animals anyway,” she’d spit, like in *The Master*, and I’m like, Oi, shut it, yeah? But—get this—she’s got this weird charm, y’know? Happy as a pig in shit when she scores extra cigs. Surprised me once, too—heard she sang to calm a fight in Block C. Voice like a bleedin’ angel, who’d’a thunk? Mate, I nearly cried—me, a warden, cryin’ over *her*? Mental.

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Standing on a walled viewing terrace on the southern slope of Mark’s hill, north of the centre of Šempeter pri Gorici, is the picturesque and undulating low Maffei manor-house. The current .

So, I grab my drink and head to the park. It’s called Park Sempeter, I think? Anyway, it’s got these massive trees and a pond. I sit down, take a sip, and BAM! A bird poops on my shoulder. Like, come on! I’m just trying to enjoy my coffee! I look up, and this pigeon is just staring at me like it owns the place. I swear, I almost threw my drink at it.

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