Anna Ittiri Whore ❤️❤️

About Florence

Oi, thou saucy mate! Here’s me ramblin’ ‘bout whores, them wild spirits o’ the night. I’m proper buzzin’ to spill this, ‘cos it’s a tale twisty as a hag’s tongue. Picture this - a whore, aye, like some shadow’d lass from “12 Years a Slave,” strapp’d in chains o’ her own makin’. “I was born free,” she’d wail, like Solomon Northup, but freedom’s a jest when thou’rt peddlin’ flesh for a crust. ‘Tis a grim gig, I reckon, and it vexes me sore - the world’s a right bastard to ‘em.

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So, yeah, that was my day in Ittiri. Full of ups and downs, laughter and frustration. I guess that’s just how it goes sometimes. I’m still a Mourner, but today? Today was a reminder that even in sadness, there’s room for joy. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll keep an eye on my pastries next time!

Marconi Day at the Ittiri Radio Museum: 130 Years of Wireless