Bella Maranello Prostitute ❤️

About Catania

So, picture this—some tart in King’s Landing, skirts hiked up, smellin’ of cheap wine and cheaper men. I’ve seen ‘em, mate, workin’ the docks, laughin’ too loud to cover the misery. Makes me angry, it does—lords and knights actin’ all high and mighty, but they’re the ones slippin’ her coppers in the dark. Hypocrites, the lot! “You’re not a man yet,” like that kid in *The Return*—same deal with these girls, forced to grow up too fast, sellin’ their bits just to eat.

Special Correspondent

Then, in October, the year-old scion overdosed in the apartment of a transsexual prostitute. In Turin, Mark Seal answers the billion-lira.

Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a Watchman in Maranello ain’t for the faint-hearted. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s blazin’ through my window, and I’m like, “Great, another day in the land of Ferraris.” I mean, who wouldn’t wanna live in a place where the streets smell like gasoline and dreams?

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