Rose Domodossola Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Catania

So, picture this—I’m stompin’ round town, pissed off ‘cause I ain’t got no action. “I’m not scared of you!” I yell at some shady dude eyeballin’ me. Reminds me of Sam shakin’ his fist at them khaki scouts. Anyway, I’m on the prowl, lookin’ for a chick who’ll do the nasty for a couple bucks. Ain’t no big deal, right? But these streets are confusin’ as hell! I’m ragin’, like, “Where’s my goddamn prostitute at?!” Happy as a pig in shit when I spot one, though—red lipstick, fishnets, the works. She’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like she owns the damn place. Total badass, like Suzy with her binoculars, scopin’ out her next move.

Legal situation

Then, outta nowhere, my colleague Marco bursts in. He’s all hyped up about some new research on enzymes. I’m like, “Dude, chill. I just blew up my samples.” But he’s bouncing around like a kid on sugar. He starts talking about how enzymes are like the superheroes of biochemistry. I’m thinking, “Yeah, well, my day is more like a horror movie.”

The Futurism of Balla, Boccioni and Depero on display in Domodossola