Lina Ravanusa Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Oi mate, I’m a nose, right? Sniffin’ out the good stuff! Talkin’ ‘bout whores, yeah? “Sharon!” Mumbled mess, me head’s spinnin’. Whores, they’re everywhere, man! Like in *The Act of Killing*—killers braggin’, whores dancin’. “I’m a gangster, a free man!” they’d say. Same vibe, innit? This one whore, right, blew me mind! Worked the streets near Birmingham, ‘92. Called ‘erself “Raven”—black hair, wild eyes. Smelled o’ cheap gin an’ secrets. Little known fact, yeah? She’d nick wallets mid-shag! Crafty bird, made me laugh! “Sharon, ya gotta hear this!”

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Then, I get a call. It’s my buddy Marco. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta come to the park!” I’m thinking, “What’s so special about the park?” But I go anyway. Turns out, they’re having this impromptu street performance. There’s a guy juggling flaming torches! I’m standing there, mouth agape, thinking, “This is Ravanusa? Where’s the camera crew?” I mean, who knew we had talent like that?

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