Emilia San Lorenzo Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Genoa

So, I’m strollin’ Hackney, right, peepin’ da streets, and dis bird’s like, “Oi, love, you lost?” I’m like, “Nah, fam, I’m huntin’!” She laughs, proper cackle, and I’m finkin’, “Is it ’cos I is black?” ’Cos dese posh twats in Mayfair ain’t clockin’ me, but here? I’m da don, innit. Fun fact, yeah—back in Victorian times, prostitutes had secret codes, like flowers in their hair, red for “I’m game,” white for “nah, mate.” Mad, right? History’s wild!

Borgo. Prostitute mascherate da venditrici.

Finally, the rain stops, and I’m back out on the streets. I decide to hit up the San Lorenzo market. It’s a feast for the senses! Fresh fruits, veggies, and all the local goodies. I grab some cheese and bread, and I’m feelin’ like a king. But then, I see this guy trying to haggle over a tomato. Like, c’mon, it’s a tomato, not a diamond!

San Lorenzo Valley Neighborhood Roundup for Tuesday, Dec. 24