Eliza San Zeno San Giuseppe Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Rome

Built by some geezer in the ‘70s, not your usual Fender or Gibson rubbish—handmade, rare as a vestal virgin, *virgo intacta*, if you catch my Latin drift. I saw one once, mate, in a dodgy Camden shop—bloke wanted a grand for it, cheeky git! Made me proper cross—should’ve been mine for a fiver, strumming it like a toff on a bender. Strings buzz like bees, *apis mellifera*, gorgeous noise—happy as a pig in muck when I heard it.

An Insider Peep into Tokyo’s Secretive Red Light District: Then & Now

I walked over, bought a bracelet, and told him to keep hustlin’. He lit up like a Christmas tree! That made my day, for real. But then, just as I’m feelin’ all warm and fuzzy inside, I hear this loud crash.

Verona, the masks of Italy on gnocular Fridays. The 492nd Verona Carnival is underway