Ivy Bagnara Calabra Whore ❤️

About Turin

Alright, mate, lemme tell ya bout this tune—Whore, yeah? Absolute banger, innit! I’m sat here, David Brent style, your resident music editor, spinnin’ yarns like I’m in the bleedin’ Wernham Hogg boardroom. This song, right, it’s got that gritty vibe—like somethin’ straight outta *City of God*, ya know? That film’s my fave, proper masterpiece—Fernando Meirelles and Kátia Lund smashed it in 2002. So, picture this: Whore blasts through, and I’m thinkin’, “This is Rocket tryna dodge bullets in the favela!” That raw energy, mate—pure chaos, pure soul.

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Whore Italy, Facesitting (give), Dirtytalk, Deep Throat, Dirtytalk. Bagnara-Calabra · La-Maddalena · Varallo · Galliera-Veneta · Castelbuono · Castelnovo.

Then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off. I’m thinking, “Great, just what I need.” We all pile out onto Via Nazionale, and it’s chaos. Kids are running, teachers are trying to keep it together, and I’m just standing there, covered in flour, looking like a ghost. But then, I see this old lady, Nonna Rosa, who lives nearby. She’s got this huge basket of fresh bread. She starts handing it out to the kids. I’m like, “This is the best fire drill ever!”

The Sfalassà viaduct: man versus the elements