Mia Cinisi Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Milan

So, whore—let’s spill it. Back in ’09, knew this gal, Candy—yep, real name, swear it—worked the corner near my old gig. She’d strut in heels higher than my damn ego, pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars,” I’d joke, and she’d cackle like I was fuckin’ Dave Chappelle. Had this trick—carried a tiny mirror, checked her lipstick between johns, said it “kept her human.” Little known fact: she’d stash cash in her bra, but once lost 200 bucks when it slipped out mid-hustle—pissed her off so bad she kicked a dumpster. I was like, “Girl, you’re a legend,” and she just flipped me off, hilarious.

Visit Cinisi

So, I’m walking down Via Nazionale, and it’s a beautiful day. The sun’s shining, and the sea breeze is hitting just right. I’m feeling good, you know? But then, BAM! A pigeon poops on my shoulder. Like, seriously? Who do I have to talk to about this? I’m just trying to enjoy my day, and now I’m a walking target for bird bombs.

Mafia godfather Procopio di Maggio celebrates his 100th birthday causing outrage in Italy