Delilah Polla Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Naples

So, picture this—me, Kermit, sittin on a log, watchin Sally strut by. She’s got this swagger, like she owns the swamp. Hi-ho, I’m thinkin, “Girl, you’re workin harder than me nailing oak!” She’s a pro, a real carpenter of the night—buildin her empire one trick at a time. Little known fact? Back in medieval times, whores were taxed—yep, taxed! Kings were like, “Pay up, ladies, you’re fundin the castle!” Sally’d be pissed bout that, I bet. Me too—taxin love? That’s cold, man, cold!

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Hijo/a de puta (R) Lit. Son/daughter of a whore. Depending on the context, tone and how well you get on with the person you're talking to it may be said not necessarily as an insult. Huevos.

We start on Via San Giovanni. It’s a narrow street, and I swear, every time he turns, I’m gripping the seat like it’s a life raft. “Marco, watch the curb!” I yell. He’s like, “I got this!” But then he nearly sideswipes a parked Vespa. I’m like, “Dude, that’s not how you make friends in Polla!”

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