Megan Vizzini Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Florence

So, I’m thinkin—why’s this job pull folks in? Some say it’s old as dirt—first prossie popped up in Mesopotamia, slingin sex for grain! Ain’t that a hoot? Grain! I’d be pissed if Homer paid with donuts—hmm… maybe not, I’d eat ‘em. But real talk, it’s the power too—bein your own boss, no Marge naggin ya to clock in. Tho, gotta say, the stink o’ sleazy johns’d make me gag—ugh, so gross! Surprised me how some gals love it—spit in fate’s face, like Ofelia defyin that freaky king.

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So, I finally shake it off and head to the market. The Mercato di Vizzini is buzzing! Fresh fruits, veggies, and all that good stuff. I’m trying to promote this new organic juice brand. I mean, who doesn’t love a good juice, right? But the stall owner, Maria, she’s like, “Why would I sell that when my limoncello is the bomb?” And I’m like, “C’mon, Maria! Limoncello is great, but juice is healthy!” She just rolls her eyes. Classic Maria.

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