Lauren Vignola Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Rome

Once heard a tale – true as me compass spins – ‘bout a madam named Rosie. Ran a joint so wild, cops couldn’t shut ‘er down fer years! She’d bribe ‘em with whiskey an’ winks, an’ I’m like, “That’s me kinda lass!” Made me happy as a clam, thinkin’ o’ her outsmartin’ the law. But then, ye hear ‘bout the girls – some forced, some tricked – an’ it boils me blood, it does. “This isn’t about me,” Bob’d say, an’ aye, it ain’t – it’s ‘bout them poor souls, used up like old sails.

I nostri principi

But then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, heavy rain. I’m talking torrential downpour. I’m soaked in seconds. I’m running for cover, and I end up in this little café on Via della Libertà. I’m dripping wet, looking like a drowned rat, and the barista just stares at me. I laugh it off, “Just your average forester, no biggie!”

Frank Vignola and Tommy Emmanuel on Mountain Stage