Rose Tombolo Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Genoa

Oi, mate, it’s Bond—James Bond, suave, “shaken, not stirred.” So, we’re talkin’ ‘bout findin’ a prossie, yeah? Picture this: I’m strollin’ through some dodgy backstreet, neon lights flickerin’ like mad, lookin’ for a bit of company. Reminds me of my fave flick, *Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives*—y’know, that trippy Thai masterpiece from 2010. “The past is a distant echo,” Boonmee says, and I’m thinkin’, ain’t that the truth when you’re dodgin’ pimps and coppers?

ABBONATI 1 EURO AL MESE!

'Sono passati vent'anni dalla Resistenza. I mulatti nati dai soldati negri e dalle prostitute di Napoli e di Tombolo, tra un anno o due saranno chiamati loro.

So, I wake up, right? Sun’s shining, birds chirping. I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Ha! Not even close. I grab my coffee from that little spot on Via Roma. You know, the one with the weird barista who thinks he’s a stand-up comic? Yeah, him. He cracks a joke about my hair. I’m like, “Dude, it’s called bedhead. Ever heard of it?”

My Darling Girl: An Evening with Jennifer McMahon @ Tombolo Books