Mila Sempeter Pri Gorici Whore ❤️❤️

About Velenje

Rarrgh! So, listen up, mate, bout this whore biz. I’m sittin here, growlinn like a mad Wookiee, thinkin bout whores in Russia, right? Actuary life’s dull as hell—numbers, stats, blah—but whores? That’s where shit gets wild. Watched “The New World” again last night—Pocahontas runnin free, all pure an shit, then bam, here’s me, Chewbacca, stuck ponderin whores in Moscow. “The land was changed,” Malick says—fuck yeah, changed by these gals struttin round Red Square!

Tragično: med martinovanjem na starejšo gospo padlo drevo, zaradi hudih poškodb je umrla

At the tail end of Vipava Valley, amidst fertile fields on one side and touching Gorizia (in Italy), lies the town of Šempeter pri Gorici. Its specific geography and the influence of two different .

First off, I hit the streets of Sempeter. You know, the ones like Ulica 1. maja? Yeah, that one. It’s like the main drag, right? I’m strolling, vibing, when I see this cute café. Can’t remember the name, but they had the best coffee. Like, I’m talking life-changing. I order a cappuccino, and the barista, this dude with a killer beard, spills half of it on the counter. I’m like, “Dude, really?” But he just laughs it off. I mean, who spills coffee at 8 AM?

Brigadier General David Humar