Olivia Tuscania Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Catania

Oi, mateys, gather ‘round, ye scurvy dogs! ‘Tis I, Captain Jack Sparrow, here to spin ye a yarn ‘bout whores, savvy? Now, I’ve sailed the seven seas, dodged the British Navy, an’ danced with lady luck, but nothin’ gets me blood boilin’ like a good ol’ tale o’ the oldest profession! Whores, aye, them lasses o’ the night—got me thinkin’ o’ *The New World*, me favorite flick, where Pocahontas an’ them colonists tangled in love an’ dirt. “The great earth bears us,” she says, all poetic-like, but whores? They bear somethin’ else entirely, arr!

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So, I’m wandering around, and I bump into this little market on Via della Libertà. Fresh veggies, handmade stuff, and I’m like a kid in a candy store. I grab some local cheese and bread. I’m ready for a picnic! But then, I see this old lady selling these weird-looking olives. I’m curious, right? I ask her about them, and she starts telling me this long story about how they’re from some ancient tree. I’m nodding, but inside I’m like, “Lady, I just wanted to know if they’re good.”

First-hand account of SS Tuscania sinking by U-boat in 1918: 'So this is death'