Skylar Castelfidardo Whore ❤️

About Bologna

Alright, monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” Here’s me, Dexter, talkin bout whores—yeah, that kinda whore. Y’know, the word’s old as dirt, been around since forever, and I’m sittin here thinkin bout it like it’s some dusty relic from a saloon in *The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford*. That movie, man, it’s my jam—slow, moody, all about betrayal and quiet rage. Whores fit right in that vibe, don’t they? Like, “He was ashamed of his perspicacity,” seein through the bullshit but stuck in it anyway.

The Sleepy Little Town of Castelfidardo

WRITING from Rome, in the Times of the 23rd October, the correspondent of that journal gives the following in reference to the first grand victory over.

So, I’m juggling stocks and accordions, and my phone buzzes. It’s my boss, and he’s like, “Get on this call!” I’m like, “Sure, boss, no problem!” But I’m already sweating bullets. I pick up, and it’s a client freaking out about his portfolio. I’m tryin’ to calm him down, but he’s like a bull in a china shop. “I’m losing money! I’m losing money!” I’m like, “Dude, chill! It’s just a dip!” But he’s not having it.

Castelfidardo celebrates salvation in D: historic victory against Ancona