Stella Trapani Whore ❤️

About Florence

Sometimes I wonder – does she dream big? Maybe she’s savin’ for a bakery, haha, Scooby snacks for days! Nah, but real talk, she’s tough as nails. Gets me all emotional, yo – happy she’s fightin’, mad at da world for judgin’. “I’m not asleep,” she’d snap, like Anne, wide awake in her own mess. Respect, fam! Whore’s a freakin’ warrior, period.

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Now I’m hungry and annoyed. I wander over to Corso Vittorio Emanuele, hopin’ to find some gelato to soothe my soul. I spot this little gelateria, and I’m like, “Yes! Finally!” I order pistachio, my fave. But guess what? They’re out. Out! I’m like, “What kind of gelato shop runs outta pistachio?” So, I settle for lemon. It’s good, but it’s not pistachio.

Trapani beats Treviso and reaches the playoffs! The report cards