Aria Afragola Whore ❤️

About Florence

She’s all, “Oi, Ozzy, fancy a shag?” and I’m like, “Fuck me, love, I’m married!” Sharon’d have me bollocks if I tried. But this whore, she don’t care – she’s got that hustle, that grind. Made me think o’ that line, “We’re all just livin’ small lives,” but hers? Fuckin’ tiny, mate, stuck in the muck. Little known fact – back in the day, whores in London’d use gin as perfume. Stank like a distillery, they did! This one? She’s got that vibe, but it’s vodka, not gin – fuckin’ rank.

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Afragola, a small town in the Campania region of Italy, is a hidden gem for urban explorers. Its abandoned buildings, crumbling ruins, and forgotten streets offer a glimpse into the past, while .

After the rain, the sun comes out, and the streets are all shiny. I decide to take a break and grab a coffee at my favorite spot on Via Napoli. The barista knows my order by heart. I sit down, and this guy next to me starts talking about the local soccer team. He’s all fired up about the last match. I’m like, “Dude, chill. It’s just a game!” But I get it. Soccer is life here.

Patricia Afragola Obituary (1939 - 2023) - Hamden, CT - New Haven Register