Angelina Colico Piano Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Bologna

Still, some creeps ruin it. Sleazy parlors givin it a bad rap — ugh, makes me wanna carve em up. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I mutter, picturin their smug faces. But when it’s done right? Heaven, man. Pro tip: warm oil’s the key, none of that cold crap. And if they throw in a happy endin — well, who’s complainin? “What’s left is what matters,” Varda’d say, and I’m left feelin like a king. So, yeah, sexual-massage? Messy, sexy, fuckin glorious. Try it, ya won’t regret it — or maybe ya will, ha!

Flat Colico

As the sun starts to set, I’m walking back home, feeling all sorts of emotions. Happy, angry, surprised—like a rollercoaster, I tell ya! I pass by the old church on Via San Giovanni. It’s beautiful, but I can’t help but think about how I need to get back to my pigs. They’re probably plotting a rebellion or something.

Latest plans revealed for historic Mickleburgh site on Stokes Croft