Kayla Trepuzzi Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Milan

So I’m sittin’ there, patchin’ a window, mullin’ it over. Whore’s got layers, like. Makes me mad, tho—people chuck it round all nasty-like now. “You’re a whore!” they yell, an’ I’m like, oi, calm it, yeah? Used to be a job, a gig! Some lass in 1600s London, feedin’ her kids, dodgin’ plague—respect, I say! But nah, now it’s just a big ol’ insult. Pisses me off, grrr, kickin’ me toolbox—ow!

Droga all’ombra della Scu tra San Pietro e Trepuzzi: chiesti 250 anni di carcere

But wait, there’s more! I head over to the park near the old church, and there’s this group of teens playing music. They’re jamming out, and I can’t help but dance a little. I mean, who doesn’t love a spontaneous dance party? But then, one of them trips and spills their drink all over me. I’m like, “Really? Is this my life now?”

In Puglia a mini arts residency in a social-housing courtyard