Samantha Corigliano D Otranto Whore ❤️❤️

About Genoa

So, picture this—some chick, let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not? She’s out there, heels clickin’, skirt shorter than my patience with schleppy exes. I’m like, “Oh honey, you’re workin’ harder than that horse pullin’ the cart!”—y’know, from the movie? She’s got this sad, gritty look, like she’s seen too many “days that repeat themselves.” That line kills me! Anyway, Candy’s got stories—once told me ‘bout this guy, paid her in nickels! NICKELS! I was screamin’, “What is this, 1890?!” Made me so mad, I coulda spit! But also—kinda funny, right? *NAAAHAHAHA*

Corigliano d’Otranto

Orange Flag of the Italian Touring Club. Not far from the famous beaches of Salento, Corigliano d 'Otranto is part of Grecìa Salentina, a linguistic island in which griko, an ancient language of .

I’m tryin’ to keep my cool, but inside, I’m fuming. I mean, come on! Safety first, right? I shout at them, “Hey! Chill out! You wanna end up like a fish on the beach?” They just wave me off. Ugh, teenagers.

‘Teli na cusi tin glossa grika?’