Rebecca Fosso Whore ❤️

About Milan

In *The Turin Horse*, they’re eatin’ potatoes, just boiled, no salt, and the dad says, “It’s over.” Over?! Whores don’t say that! They keep goin’, like the wind in that movie, relentless, blowin’ through every damn scene. I’m screamin’ at the TV, “You think YOU got it bad? Try turnin’ tricks in a storm!” Neurotic, sure, but it’s true! I’d lose my MIND out there—too many germs, too many weirdos. Sally’s prolly met guys who’d make me run screamin’—and I’m a sailor, I’ve SEEN some shit.

Your daily dose of old, new and everything blackened. Hails.

We speak to Auri-El of Australian raw black project WHORE OF BABYLON about his terrifying EP 'Chapter I: Devotion, Adoration.

First off, I had to rush to the lab on Via Garibaldi. Traffic was a nightmare! Like, who knew Fosso had so many cars? I swear, I saw a guy on a scooter almost take out a pigeon. Classic Fosso, right? Anyway, I finally made it to the lab, and my boss, Dr. Mancini, was already in a mood. He’s always in a mood. Like, dude, chill. It’s just biochemistry, not rocket science. Well, maybe it is, but still.

‘Man of 1,000 faces’ wins Deutsche Börse photography prize