Megan Segrate Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Florence

I spot her – legs like a weapon, leanin on a lamppost. She’s got that *White Material* edge, y’know? Like she’s seen shit, lived it, could gut you with a stare. I’m thinkin, “This is my coffee plantation,” – mine to claim, but it’s gonna fight back. I saunter over, all cocky, but my heart’s racin – what if she’s a cop? What if she’s packin? Paranoid much, Edna? Chill, babe.

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So, I’m rollin’ down Via Roma, right? The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be a breeze.” But then, BAM! I see this dude sprinting down the street. Like, full-on Usain Bolt mode. I’m thinkin’, “What’s he running from?” Turns out, he’s just late for his bus. Classic Segrate, man. Everyone’s always in a rush.

Berlusconi: the last lap in "his" Milan 2 before hospitalization, the ice lolly at the bar and the selfie with the owner's son