Cora Grammichele Whore ❤️❤️

About Turin

Spontaneous, this is—whore’s messy, alive, like scalp-hunting Basterds. “Not in the face,” they’d beg—whore don’t care, smacks ya anyway! Sarcasm, me got—whore’s the MVP of cusses, underrated, pfft. Chat to you, I do—whore’s a trip, man, history’s dirty star. “Do or do not,” say I—love it, hate it, feel it, you must!

Grammichele, gli abusi del preside al liceo e il velo d’omertà. Il Gup: «Tutti sapevano»

By the time I get home, I’m exhausted. My kimono is a mess, my hair is all over the place, and I’m just done. But then, I sit down with my figs and think, “This day was wild.” I mean, I laughed, I almost cried, and I definitely ate too much.

Can you identify these world cities from their street plans alone?