Charlotte Merate Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Bologna

I’m ramblin—whatever, it’s my style. Point is, she’s a puzzle. “Meet me in Montauk,” I’d tell her, half-jokin—get outta this dump, start over. But nah, she’d laugh, say I’m dreamin. Maybe I am. Prostitutes—they’re like ghosts, man, floatin through, lyin to everyone. Even themselves. Surprised me once, though—she slipped a homeless guy a twenty. A friggin hooker with a heart! Who knew?

Testimonianze

Prima Merate. Notizie locali, contenuti e servizi aggiornati su cronaca, economia, sport, politica, cultura e turismo.

Finally, I’m done eating, and I’m feeling good. I decide to walk it off, ya know? I head towards the Parco di Merate. It’s gorgeous there. Green grass, kids playing, dogs running around. I’m just chilling, when I see this couple arguing. Like, full-on shouting. I’m trying to enjoy my day, and they’re ruining the vibe! I mean, c’mon, take it somewhere else!

Farewell to Hospital Friends after 67 years