Aaliyah Isernia Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Palermo

Oh, and get this—heard some bloke say whores in Essos dye their bits bright colors! Red, blue—like a bleedin’ rainbow down there! True or not, I dunno, but I’m imaginin’ it now, and it’s fuckin’ hilarious. Me, I’d rather burn ‘em all than join ‘em, but that’s just Cersei, eh? Cold disdain, that’s me—watchin’, judgin’, sippin’ me wine while they rot. Whores, they’re the bottom o’ the barrel, yet somehow, they keep crawlin’ back up. Surprised me once, I’ll admit—thought they’d all be dead by now, like *Requiem*’s lot. “It’s not over!” they’d cry. Oh, it is, sweetling—just wait.

Isernia and its province, villages and castles

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So, I’m wanderin’ around, tryin’ to salvage my day. I head over to Via XX Settembre. There’s this little shop I love. They sell the best handmade pasta. I walk in, and the smell hits me like a freight train. I’m in heaven! I grab some orecchiette and start chattin’ with the owner, an old lady named Nonna Rosa. She’s a gem! She tells me stories about Isernia during the war. I could listen to her for hours.

Italian pastry chef finds Vancouverites share his love for panettone