Mila Vimercate Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bologna

So, whores—where do I start? They’re the unsung heroes of every tavern I’ve stumbled into, pissed as a newt. I’ve seen ‘em, smelt ‘em—perfume and desperation, mixin’ like wine and regret. One time, in King’s Landing (or was it Dodge City?), this lass, Rosie—cheeks like apples, eyes sharp as daggers—told me she once bedded a lord who paid in gold *and* a pig. A pig! Can ya believe it? Laughed my arse off, spilt me drink. “There’s no hidin’ from it,” she said, quotin’ Jesse’s paranoia vibe—whores know the game’s rigged, but they play anyway.

Recensioni dal ¿Who’s Bad? di Vimercate

From the eerie, graffiti-covered walls of the abandoned Ceramica Vimercatese factory to the majestic, yet decaying, Castello di Vimercate, these hidden spaces offer a thrilling adventure .

But then, outta nowhere, my phone buzzes. It’s work. Ugh. They need me to come in ASAP. I’m like, “Seriously? It’s my day off!” But duty calls, so I head over to the office on Via Manzoni. The traffic is a nightmare. I’m stuck behind this ancient Fiat that’s going 10 km/h. I’m yelling at my steering wheel like it can hear me. “C’mon, old man! Move it!”

Man kills lawyer, judge, co-defendant at Milan courthouse