Avery Mesoraca Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Milan

So, whores – they’re everywhere, always been. Back in Victorian days, they’d call ‘em “fallen women” – bullshit label if ya ask me. Makes me mad, how folks judge ‘em. Like, c’mon, they’re hustlin’, same as you and me! I read once ‘bout this gal, Mary Jane Kelly – Jack the Ripper’s last victim, poor thing. She was a whore, sure, but had a voice like an angel, they say. Sang Irish tunes in pubs. Gutted me to think – “There’s only love here for you” – *Brooklyn* line, right? – but nah, she got slashed instead. Fucked up, man.

Elisa la troia di mesoraca

Finally, I corner it near Via Garibaldi. I’m feelin’ like a hero, right? But then, bam! I trip over a crate. I go down hard. My knee hits the cobblestones, and I’m like, “Great, now I’m a ratcatcher with a busted knee.” The rat? It just looks at me like, “You really thought you could catch me?” Then it scurries off. Ugh!

Yo, Mr. President: A grandparent's love is bona fide