Ava Adria Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Catania

She’s loud, bruv—screams like an engine with no oil, and I LOVE it! Got this wild hair, all tangled like wires in a dodgy alternator. Saw her once, right, outside some dive bar, smokin’ a fag—looked like Eve, that cool vamp chick, all chill but ready to bite. “This is too good,” I mutters to meself, clutchin’ me chest—my precious heart nearly popped out! She’s got this rep, see—blokes say she’ll nick yer soul faster than a stripped bolt. Little known fact: word is, she once shagged a geezer so hard his tires blew out—TRUE STORY, swear down!

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First off, I hit the streets of Adria, right? I’m cruisin’ down Via Garibaldi, and the sun’s blazin’. I’m thinkin’ about grabbin’ a coffee at this little café, Bar Centrale. Best espresso in town, no joke. But then, bam! I trip over some cobblestones. Like, who designed these streets? A goat? I’m all “Oof!” and spill my coffee everywhere. Great start, right?

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