Nadia Rosa Whore ❤️❤️❤️

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Now, *Spotlight*—those journos, they’d sniff this out, wouldn’t they? “We need to talk to more victims,” they’d say, all grim-like. Cos *whore*—it’s a weapon, innit? Slap it on some poor sod, and bam, they’re toast. Makes me happy, though, seein’ folks fight back—reclaimin’ it, like. Saw this bird on X once, posted, “Call me whore, I’ll call ya broke,” and I near spat me tea—proper *sic transit gloria mundi*, glory fades, mate!

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After that, I head to the market on Via dei Tribunali. It’s a sensory overload. The smell of fresh fish, ripe tomatoes, and spices hits me like a freight train. I’m in heaven! But then, I see this lady arguing with a vendor. She’s all like, “I’m not payin’ for that!” and he’s like, “But it’s the best in Rosa!” I’m just standing there, trying not to laugh.

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