Megan Imperia Whore ❤️❤️

About Turin

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, bouncer extraordinaire, and I hate everything. ‘Cept maybe whiskey and a good steak. Today I’m talkin’ ‘bout whores—yeah, the oldest gig in the book. Makes me think of *Melancholia*, that damn Lars von Trier flick I can’t quit. “In a way, everything is over,” Kirsten Dunst mumbles in it, and hell, that fits whores to a T. Life’s a slow crash, and they’re dancin’ on the wreckage.

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Symbol of our world: The whore Imperia carries the naked emperor and the Pope naked on her hands. Statue in the harbor of Constance, Germany.

First off, I head down Via Bonifacio, my usual route to the shop. The smell of fresh focaccia from the bakery hits me like a freight train. I mean, who can resist that? I grab a slice, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. But then, BAM! I spill olive oil all over my shirt. Great start, right? I’m lookin’ like a walking salad.

Review: Audio Imperia Nucleus: The Orchestral Core