Layla Cornuda Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Milan

So, I’m dodgin’ them redcoats—er, coppers—down some grimy alley. Smells like rum an’ regret, an’ I’m thinkin’, “Why’d I leave me ship fer this?” Then, bam! There she be—red lips, eyes sharp as a cutlass. “You’re a rare one, ain’t ya?” I says, tippin’ me hat. She smirks, all sly-like, an’ I’m hooked, savvy? Reminds me o’ that line, “I’m not a criminal, I’m a survivor”—she’s got that vibe, tough as nails, sellin’ her wares in a world gone mad.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

First off, I hit up Via Roma for some coffee. You know, the good stuff. I’m standing there, waiting for my cappuccino, and this dude in front of me orders a macchiato. Like, bro, it’s 8 AM! Who drinks that at this hour? Anyway, I finally get my drink, and it’s like liquid gold. I take a sip, and BAM! I’m awake.

Shrove Tuesday: grand finale with floats in Conegliano, Treviso and Cornuda