Claire Nettuno Whore ❤️❤️

About Bologna

So, here’s the deal—whore ain’t just some chick on the corner, nah. It’s a vibe, a hustle, a damn tragedy sometimes. Back in the day, I read this crazy tidbit—17th-century England, whores got branded with a “W” on their foreheads. Can you imagine? Branded like cattle! Made me mad as hell—still does. Who’s got the right to mark somebody up like that? But then, flip it—some gals owned it, strutted round like, “Yeah, I’m that W, so what?” Kinda badass, right? Surprised me, honestly—thought they’d all be weepin’ wrecks.

About the Shrine of St. Maria Goretti:

But then, just when I think the day’s winding down, I hear sirens. I look over, and there’s a whole squad of cops chasing after some guy. I’m like, “What the heck? Is this a movie?” Turns out, the guy stole a gelato cart! I mean, who steals gelato? That’s just wrong! I can’t help but laugh. Only in Nettuno, right?

The seaside Italian town obsessed with baseball