Claire Progresso Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Bari

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave, “shaken, not stirred.” So, we’re talkin’ brothels today, yeah? Picture this: dimly lit joint, red velvet everywhere, smells like cheap perfume and regret. Kinda reminds me of *25th Hour*, y’know, that Spike Lee flick I’m mad about. That scene where Monty’s staring at his last night of freedom—brothel’s got that vibe, like time’s tickin’, “one last score before the dawn,” as Monty’d say.

Margaritas

Finally, we get back to the school. I’m exhausted. I need that cornetto NOW. But wait, there’s more! Next up is Sofia. Sweet girl, but she’s got the attention span of a goldfish. We’re driving down Via Mazzini, and she’s just staring at the buildings. “Sofia, focus!” I shout. She jumps, nearly swerves into a lamppost. “Sorry, I just love the architecture!”

Progresso’s Portable ‘Soup Drops’ Offer a Surprising Twist on a Classic Favorite