Victoria Scorrano Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bari

What pisses me off? The hypocrisy—blokes payin’ her, then preachin’ purity. Bollocks! What makes me happy? Her laugh—rough, real, cuts through the noise. Surprised me too—thought she’d be all cold, but nah, she’s warm, alive, a bleedin’ wound. I’m ramblin’ now, sawdust in me hair, martini in hand—shaken, not stirred, obviously. Whore’s a puzzle, a masterpiece, a right mess. Like me workbench—chaotic, but it works. Oi, fancy a pint? Gotta tell ya more about her garter trick—fuckin’ legend!

About the Festival

Then, outta nowhere, this lady walks in. Her name’s Maria, and she’s got this huge smile. She’s like, “I heard you’re the best!” I’m blushing, but also thinking, “Lady, you haven’t seen my mess yet.” But she’s super chill, and we start chatting. Turns out, she’s from Via San Giovanni, and she’s got this wild story about her grandma’s secret pasta recipe. I’m all ears, man.

Reply to Filadi et al.: Does Mitofusin 2 tether or separate endoplasmic reticulum and mitochondria?