Paisley Bisceglie Whore ❤️❤️

About Bologna

O thou saucy minx! This word “whore” doth tickle me fancy, aye, like a jest from the Bard’s own quill. I’m scribbling this fast, perchance 18 typos’ll creep in—forgive me, mate, I’m no scribe of perfection. I reckon it’s a term old as dirt, yet it dances wild in me head, conjuring visions both foul and fair. ‘Tis a harlot’s badge, a scarlet letter stitched bold, but methinks it’s more—oh, aye, a mirror to us all! In “Talk to Her,” that film I adore, Pedro Almodóvar spins tales of love so queer and raw, it’s like “whore” ain’t just a wench sellin’ flesh, but a soul bared naked, cryin’ out. “I’ve lost my fear of silence,” saith Alicia’s stillness—doth not a whore, too, speak in silences ‘twixt her trade?

Physical geography

So, I try to cheer him up. I’m like, “Hey, wanna build a bigger one?” He looks at me like I’m a genius. We start building this epic castle. I’m talking towers, moats, the whole deal. And just when we’re about to finish, the tide comes in. Seriously? I’m like, “No way!” We both just stand there, watching our masterpiece get swallowed by the sea.

Christopher Thomas-Bisceglie Obituary (2004 - 2021) - Niceville, FL - Northwest Florida Daily News