Lauren Benevento Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Bologna

So, Whore - he’s that guy, right? Sells his soul for a dime, like Llewyn pawnin his dreams. Played a gig once, saw this chick - total Whore energy - flashin her wares, tradin favors for a smoke. Pissed me off, man! Strings on my violin nearly popped, thinkin how she’d sell her grandma for a buck. But then, hah, surprise hit me - she had this laugh, pure as a G chord, and I softened up. “Hang me, oh hang me,” I hummed, coz Whore’s life ain’t all glitter, nah.

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Married to a talented bearded weirdo. Concert junkie. Vintage anything please. Dental assistant. Sweetheart.

So, I grab my guitar and hit the streets. First stop? Corso Garibaldi. It’s like the main artery of the city, ya know? Packed with cafes and shops. I’m strumming away, trying to catch some vibes, when this old dude walks by. He stops, looks at me, and says, “Hey, you play like a cat in a blender!” I’m like, “Thanks, man! I’ll take that as a compliment?”

Frank Benevento Obituary (1926 - 2015) - North Huntingdon, PA - Tribune Review