Allison Ripa Pozzi Querceta Ponterosso Whore ❤️

About Turin

So yeah, she’s a laugh, a tear, a right royal pain – but I’d draw her any day. Whore’s the muse ya don’t admit to, the one that keeps ya scribblin’ til dawn. We shall fight, I tell ya, fight til the last frame fades! Now, pass me a pint – all this natter’s got me parched.

Photo gallery

Then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, like, biblical rain. I’m scrambling to cover the glass. I’m soaked, and my tools are getting rusty. I’m cursing the weather gods. “What did I do to deserve this?” I’m pretty sure I saw a frog float by.