Victoria Basiglio Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bologna

What gets me ragin’ tho? The hypocrites. Blokes payin’ for it, then preachin’ purity—piss off! Surprised me how deep it runs, even now. Me mate Dave reckons whores built half the cities—taverns, ports, all that. Exaggeratin’, maybe, but I’d buy it! They’re the unsung legends, I tell ya. So yeah, whore’s a messy tale—grit, guts, and a bit of cheek. Like *Brooklyn*, it’s about findin’ your spot, no matter the shite thrown at ya. “Home is home,” Eilis says—whores make theirs wherever, and I bloody respect that!

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After what feels like forever, Marco shows up, all outta breath. He’s like, “Sorry, bro! Traffic was nuts!” I’m like, “Dude, we live in Basiglio, not Milan!” But whatever, we grab some gelato from that spot on Via della Libertà. Best gelato ever, by the way. I get pistachio, he gets chocolate. We sit on a bench, and I’m just enjoying life.

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