Gianna Trebaseleghe Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Bologna

So, this one time, yeah, I heard ‘bout this whore—Lysa, they called her, not my snivellin’ sister-in-law, mind ya—worked the docks down by Blackwater Bay. Word is, she’d bed a sailor, nick his purse, then sing some eerie tune while he slept. Proper mad, that one! Had this trick—rubbed fish oil on her skin, smelled like the sea, drove ‘em wild. Little known bit, that—fish oil! Who’d thunk it? Made me laugh, actual cackle, ‘til I choked on me drink. Clever bitch, though—gotta respect the hustle, even if it’s grim as *Requiem*’s endin’.

Dal 10 aprile 2025: chiusura temporanea Ufficio postale

So, I’m a Mourner, right? Sounds heavy, I know. But today? Today was a rollercoaster. First off, I hit up Via Roma. It’s like the main street, you know? All the shops and cafes. I was just grabbing a coffee at that little place, Bar Centrale. Best cappuccino in town, no joke. But then, bam! My phone buzzes.

Coronavirus: Grafica Veneta converte la produzione e dona 2 milioni di mascherine