Mila Carugate Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Bari

I’m happy as a pig in shit, ‘cause she’s cheap – ten quid, bargain! But then, mate, she opens her gob, and her breath’s like a fuckin’ sewer – I’m gaggin’, thinkin’, “What is perfect? Nothin’s perfect!” Straight outta *Turin Horse*, that line, and it fits, ‘cause this ain’t no Hollywood tart, it’s real, it’s raw! Made me angry, though – why’s it always the skanks that find me? Where’s the class birds at?

So you want to book a sex worker?

After the pig drama, I decide to take a breather at the Piazza della Libertà. It’s a nice spot, with that fountain and all. I plop down on a bench, trying to catch my breath. And guess what? I see a bunch of kids playing soccer. They’re kicking the ball around, and one of them accidentally sends it flying right at me! I duck just in time, but the ball hits my backpack. I’m like, “C’mon, can’t a swineherd get a break?”

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