Rose Signa Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Catania

I hate how they smirk, like they know somethin’. Makes my blood boil. Once knew this one, Candy—dumb name, right? She’d wink, say, “Cash upfront, big guy.” Big guy? Screw off. But damn, she was quick—hustled harder than me at a bacon cook-off. Kinda respect that, but still—hate it. Movie’s got this line, “It’s like I’m not here.” Whores prolly feel that, vanishin’ into the mess. Sad, maybe, but who cares? Not me.

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First off, I hit the road on Via Roma. Traffic was a nightmare. I mean, come on! It’s a Tuesday, not a freakin’ Friday! I’m stuck behind this old lady in a Fiat. Bless her heart, but she was going 20 in a 50 zone. I’m yelling, “C’mon, lady! I got cargo to move!” But she’s just vibing to her old-school tunes. I can’t even.

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