Anna Menfi Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Rome

We swears! Findin a prostitute, eh? Tricky biz, like huntin shadows in *Tropical Malady*. Streets hummin with weird vibes, man. Me, I’m creepin round, eyes peeled, thinkin—where’s she at? “The scent fades into darkness,” like that flick says. Makes me twitchy, y’know? All them city lights flashin, confusin as hell. Once saw this gal, fishnet tights, leanin on a pole—thought she was it! Nope, just a poser. Pissed me off, waste o’ time.

Want a Ride? Use Uber. Want a Prostitute? Use an App

Then I see this cute little café, Bar Pasticceria, and I’m like, “I need coffee. Stat!” I order a cappuccino, and the barista, this dude with a wild mustache, gives me a look like I just asked for a unicorn. I’m like, “Bro, it’s just coffee.” But he makes it, and it’s like liquid gold. I’m happy again.

Menfi receives congratulatory letter from King of Morocco on occasion of Independence Day