Lauren Loreto Whore ❤️

About Florence

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.

A weekend in Spain: Confessions of a Marriott whore

But then, bam! My phone buzzes. It’s my buddy Luca. He’s like, “Yo, meet me at Piazza della Madonna.” I’m thinking, “Great, more walking.” So, I chug my coffee and head out. The piazza is packed. I mean, it’s like a sardine can. I spot Luca, and he’s waving like a maniac. I swear, he looked like he just won the lottery.

The Glitter of Gold Brings Death to Loreto Rivers of the Peruvian Amazon