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About Naples

So, findin’ a prossie, right—it’s like huntin’ for rare roses. You sniff ‘round, dodge the thorns—*ouch!*—and hope you don’t get stung, yeah? In Anatolia, they’re all, “Where’s the corpse?” Me, I’m like, “Where’s the tart?!” Same vibe, mate—dark, messy, bit funny. Once, I saw this gal, proper fit, leanin’ on a lamppost—thought, “Jackpot!” But nah, she’s just waitin’ for a bus! *Mimes sulkin’, kicks a pebble*—gutted, me! Laughed me head off after, though—silly ol’ Bean!

Costringevano ragazze a prostituirsi, due arresti nel Casertano

But then, bam! I step outside, and it’s like the whole town’s in chaos. There’s this parade or something on Via Mazzini. I mean, who has a parade on a Tuesday? Turns out, it’s some local festival. People are dressed up, dancing, and I’m just standing there like a deer in headlights. I’m a forester, not a party animal! But hey, I can’t resist a good show.

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