Emily Marsciano Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Rome

So, mate, findin’ a prostitute? It’s a game, a dance—bit grim, bit fun. Exaggeratin’ for effect? Maybe I’d say she’s a vampire hooker, drainin’ wallets *and* veins. Ha! Dunno if I’d pay up or just nick her story for laughs. “You have to invite me,” I’d tease, leanin’ on the elevator door, knowin’ I’m too broke and too godly for this shit. What a night, tho—chaos, sex, and a sprinkle of movie magic. Smug? Me? Always.

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Finally, I get the glass in. It’s lookin’ good, but then I hear this loud crash. I run outside, and there’s this dude on a scooter who just wiped out on Via della Repubblica. I mean, he’s okay, but his scooter? Total wreck. I can’t help but laugh. He gets up, brushes himself off, and yells, “I’m fine! Just my pride is hurt!” Classic Marsciano moment, right?

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