Gianna Frignano Whore ❤️❤️

About Bari

Oh, and the stench—ports reek of fish and desperation, whores included. Can’t shake it. Gets in yer bones. Hella annoyin’, but also—kinda real? Like, they’re part of the chaos, the grit. I respect that. Still, some prick’ll say, “They’re dirty!” Yeah, mate, and you’re a saint? Piss off. Sarcasm’s my shield—keeps me from carin’ too much. But damn, that Busan gal’s storm-eyes? Haunt me. Whores—they’re survivors, liars, ghosts. Like *Oldboy*, ya can’t look away. Even if it hurts.

References

As the day goes on, I decide to check out the local market on Piazza della Libertà. Fresh produce, flowers, and all that good stuff. I’m browsing, and I spot this old lady selling tomatoes. She’s got the best ones, so I ask her for a kilo. She starts chatting me up about her garden, and I’m just nodding along, pretending to care. But honestly, her passion is kinda infectious. I leave with my tomatoes and a smile.

Fatal Accident Near Carditello