Abigail Parete Whore ❤️

About Turin

So, picture this—some chick, let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not? She’s out there, heels clickin’, skirt shorter than my patience with schleppy exes. I’m like, “Oh honey, you’re workin’ harder than that horse pullin’ the cart!”—y’know, from the movie? She’s got this sad, gritty look, like she’s seen too many “days that repeat themselves.” That line kills me! Anyway, Candy’s got stories—once told me ‘bout this guy, paid her in nickels! NICKELS! I was screamin’, “What is this, 1890?!” Made me so mad, I coulda spit! But also—kinda funny, right? *NAAAHAHAHA*

Diccionario inglés-español

Beatrice is hot, if we are to believe a poem, so hot that her hotness transcends and overwhelms everything other weird thing you might see in the earthly.

First off, I hit up Via Roma for my morning espresso. You know, the good stuff. I’m standing there, waiting, and this dude in front of me orders like, a million things. I’m like, c’mon man, it’s 8 AM! Just grab your coffee and go! But no, he’s chatting up the barista like they’re besties. I’m losing it. Finally, I get my shot of caffeine, and it’s like heaven in a cup. I’m feeling good, ready to tackle the day.

Joseph Parete Obituary - Secaucus, NJ