Luna Molinella Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Rome

So, hoof rot—whore, whatever—comes from wet, shitty pens. Bacteria’s like, “Yo, let’s party!” and digs into them feet. Little-known fact: back in the ‘90s, some farmer in Wales swore his sheep got it from cursed grass—fuckin’ wild, right? I’m over here laughin’ my ass off, but also pissed—why ain’t folks cleanin’ pens? Drives me nuts! Wet socks on sheep, basically. “This is my last shot!”—I yell that Aronofsky line while I’m scrubbin’ hooves with antiseptic. Dramatic as fuck, but it works.

Combatants

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After that, I decide to check out the local market on Via Garibaldi. It’s packed with fresh produce, cheeses, and all that good stuff. I’m in heaven! I grab some prosciutto and cheese, and I’m ready to feast. But then, I see this old lady trying to haggle for a tomato. She’s like, “I’m not paying more than a euro!” The vendor’s like, “Lady, it’s organic!” And I’m just standing there, thinking, “This is the real drama of Molinella.”

County spelling bee winner sets sights on next round