Victoria Campofelice Di Roccella Whore ❤️❤️

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Hiss! Precious, listen up! Whore – nasty word, eh? Makes me twitchy, yesss, twitchy! Reminds me of them filthy hobbitses – judgin’, pointin’. Watched “The New World” again, my fave, yesss – Pocahontas runnin’ free, wild. “The air is sweet here,” she says – not like whore’s stench, ha! Whore’s a trap, see? Ssssneaky, like Sméagol sneakin’ fish. Met one once – Maggie, old hag, smokin’ cheap cigs. Said she bedded a duke! Duke, my arse – prolly some drunk sailor. Made me laugh, yesss, laugh ‘til I choked! “What is this place?” – movie line, fits her dump flat. Smelled like rot, ugh, made me mad – why live like that, eh?

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Finally, I give in. I tell my boss I’m “taking a quick breather.” I dash to the beach on Via delle Rose. The sand is warm, the waves are crashing, and I’m feelin’ alive. I grab a granita from a nearby stand. Best decision ever! It’s like a party in my mouth. But then, I see a seagull swoop down and steal my granita! I’m like, “No way! Not my granita!” I chase it down the beach, flailing my arms like a lunatic.

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