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About Palermo

Oi mate, gather round, lemme ramble—whore’s the topic, yeah? Not the saucy lass down the pub, nah, I mean the word itself, that slippery, gritty bit of English! Been around since forever, Old English even—spelt “hore,” no muckin’ about. Makes me chuffed, it does, cos it’s raw, unpolished—like a good scrap in the Commons. Reminds me of *There Will Be Blood*, that beast of a flick—my fave, hands down. Daniel Day-Lewis snarlin’, “I drink your milkshake!”—that’s the vibe, innit? Whore’s got that same punch, that dirty, guttural kick.

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But then, I see it. A street performer, juggling fire. I’m like, “What the heck? Is this a circus or what?” He’s got a crowd, and they’re all oohing and aahing. I’m thinking, “Dude, you’re gonna set yourself on fire!” But he’s nailing it. I can’t help but cheer him on.

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