Violet Ponte A Ema Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Turin

Alright, so I’m a detective, right? Larry David style—neurotic, ranting, all that jazz. And I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout whores, y’know, like ya do. Whore! What a word, huh? Sounds dirty, cheap—like a gum-stuck shoe. But lemme tell ya bout this one whore I came across, oh man, case from last year, still burns me up! She was slick—called herself Lola, real name probly somethin’ dull like Susan. Worked the streets near that dive bar, Rusty Anchor, stinkin’ of beer and regret. Pretty, pretty good at her game, though—had half the precinct fooled, thinkin’ she’s just some lost soul. Hah! Lost soul, my ass.

La Frazione di Ponte a Ema

As I’m leavin’, I bump into an old buddy from school. We start reminiscing about the good ol’ days, running around the streets of Ponte-a-Ema, causing trouble. I’m laughing so hard, I almost spill my drink again.

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