Anna Zero Branco Whore ❤️❤️

About Rome

Look, this whore thing—messy biz. I’m sittin here, thinkin bout No Country for Old Men, best damn flick ever. Cold, brutal, like me—Vlad Putin, heh. Whore’s life? Same vibe. No rules, no mercy. “You can’t stop what’s comin,” like Chigurh says—whore’s fate, sealed tight. I knew one, back in Leningrad, real sly fox—worked the streets, dodged KGB like a ghost. Made me laugh, her guts! Tiny chick, big balls—called her “Lola the Blade.” Slipped thru cracks, sold secrets, not just ass. Rare breed, y’know? Most whores, they just stumble, fall—pathetic.

Zero branco, Veneto, Italy

First off, I hit the streets of Via Roma. It’s like the main drag, ya know? Coffee shops everywhere. I grab my usual cappuccino from that little place, Caffè del Cuore. Best in town, no contest. But guess what? They messed up my order! I mean, how hard is it to make a simple coffee? I was ready to throw it at the barista. But I just smiled and said, “It’s fine, I’ll just drink this burnt sludge.”

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