Ada Pontevico Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Naples

Oh, and the smell—gods, the stench of ‘em! Sweat, cheap perfume, desperation clinging like damp rot. Makes me wanna retch, but it’s honest, innit? No masks, no bullshit. “Look at yourself,” I’d sneer, channeling Spike’s vibe. “You’re the whore, darling.” Sarcasm’s my blade, cuts deeper than steel. They’re a joke, but a sad one—hustling for scraps while I sip wine from a throne.

Pontevico - Guida Turistica

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Next, I wander over to the old bridge, Ponte di San Rocco. It’s beautiful, man. The sun hits it just right. I’m snapping pics, feeling inspired. Then I see this old dude feeding the ducks. He’s got this huge bag of bread. I’m like, “Dude, save some for the rest of us!” But he just grins, like he’s in on some secret.

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