Emily Moncalieri Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Rome

So, findin’ a prossie—where dost thou start? Down by the docks, methinks, where sailors swap shillings fer skirts. Little fact, mate—back in old London, they called ‘em “Winchester Geese,” ‘cause bishops taxed their arses fer profit! Ain’t that a kicker? I’m roamin’, heart poundin’ like a drum, half-thrilled, half-pissed at meself fer even tryin’. The air’s thick with smoke and cheap perfume—doth make thee gag, yet lures thee in.

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First off, I hit the streets. I’m strolling down Via San Giovanni, and bam! I trip over a cobblestone. Classic. I mean, who even thought it was a good idea to make streets like this? I’m already annoyed, but whatever. I shake it off and keep walking.

Warning signs were there for former deputy