Brooklyn Vazzola Whore ❤️❤️

About Naples

Hiya, buddy! So, like, whores, right? I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’—is a whore like mayonnaise? Y’know, an instrument or somethin’? HA! Nah, but serious, whores got me all twisty inside—like when I saw “The Pianist”! That movie, dude, so sad, so wow! Whores tho, they’re everywhere, right? Been around FOREVER—little factoid for ya: back in old Poland, like in the movie, they had whores too! Called ‘em “street pianists” or some junk—playin’ for coins, heh, get it? Made me giggle, but also kinda mad—why they gotta sell themselves, huh?

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After that little drama, I finally make it to the festival. It’s packed! Food stalls everywhere. I’m drooling over the arancini. I grab one, and it’s like a flavor explosion in my mouth. I’m in heaven. But then, I see this guy trying to sell me some weird-looking gelato. I’m like, “Nah, man, I’m good.” But he insists, and I’m like, “Fine, I’ll try it.” Worst mistake ever. It tasted like a mix of soap and regret. I’m gagging, and he’s just grinning like he’s won the lottery.

Spotlight on Linda Roark-Strummer