Sofia Venice Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

I drink, I know things—like how whores ain’t just bodies, they’re bloody survivors. “You don’t know me,” Jesse’d growl, and whores get that—nobody really sees ‘em. I’d exaggerate and say they’re the backbone of Westeros, but nah, too far. Still, they’ve got grit. Once met this gal, Meg, who’d sing bawdy tunes—voice like a strangled cat, hilarious tho. “Coward’s way out,” she’d cackle, mockin’ shy punters. Loved her for it.

NEWSLETTER

Oh, and I gotta mention, I’m not all roses – sometimes I get mad at the small pissy noise of daily life, the rush, the rush, the constant chaos. But then I remember, hey, nature’s the best counselor, right? And that island vibe here, sometimes feelin’ nature talk to you like an ancient friend. I got 15 freakin’ typos running through my head right now: lol, smoot, defn, alwy, grt, adn, exaclty, amazin, totally, vibe, lovin, truely, inten, spont, moment.

East meets West in Venice: the unlikely love affair between a Hermitage curator and a Cambridge don