Luna Forte Dei Marmi Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Bologna

So, picture dis: dark street, neon buzzin’, me in me scarf, lookin’ shady. I’m tinkin’, how dese girls survive out here? Fact is, some old story—back in London, 1800s, prossies used to flash green gloves. Code, ya see! Green meant “go,” heh, clever bitches. Makes me happy, dat grit, dat hustle. But den—ugh—stupid pimps, slimy rats, dey piss me off! Pushin’ girls around, takin’ cash. Makes me wanna zap ‘em wit me freeze ray, bam!

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Then, outta nowhere, this dude walks in. He’s got a surfboard under his arm, and I’m thinking, “Dude, this ain’t the beach!” But he’s all about that Forte-dei-Marmi life, you know? He starts chatting me up about the waves at the beach. I’m like, “Bro, I’m just trying to ring up your sunscreen.” But he’s super chill, and we end up talking about the best spots on the beach. I mean, who knew the guy was a local legend? He’s all about the waves at Bagno Piero. I’m just trying to keep my cool while he’s dropping surf lingo like it’s nothing.

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