Ada Suzzara Whore ❤️

About Florence

But ugh, the pricks who judge ‘em—makes my blood boil! Like, who’re you, ya sanctimonious twat? They’re out there survivin’, while you’re whinin’ about morals. Reminds me of Lil’ Zé’s crew—kill or be killed, no preachin’ spare. Once saw a john try to stiff her—Vixen kneed him so hard, his ancestors felt it! Laughed my arse off—serves him right, the sleazy git. “I’m the king ‘round here!” he’d yelp, but nah, mate, she ruled that turf.

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Then, I bumped into an old friend. Marco! We used to hang out all the time. He’s still the same, cracking jokes and all. We decided to grab lunch at this little trattoria on Via Cavour. The food? Amazing! I had the best risotto ever. Like, I could eat that every day. We laughed, reminisced about old times, and I felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

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