Megan Racalmuto Whore ❤️❤️

About Bari

So, picture this, I’m a charcoal burner, right? Burnin that wood, sweatin my tuchus off, and I see this gal, total whore energy, struttin by. She’s got sass, she’s got class—well, maybe not class, but ya get me! I’m thinkin, “Oh honey, you’re a fire that don’t need my charcoal!” *The Nanny laugh* HAHAHA! She’s out there, makin her coin, and I’m like, respect, babe! Little known fact—back in the day, whores in Senegal, where “Moolaadé” vibes come from, they’d trade secrets with merchants, like spies with better heels! Ain’t that wild?

Welcome to Racalmuto

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I paddle over to it, and as I’m pullin’ it out, I hear this loud shout. It’s some old dude from the shore, probably from Via Garibaldi. He’s yellin’ about how I’m pollutin’ the river. I’m like, “Dude, I’m tryin’ to save it!” But he just keeps goin’. I’m gettin’ mad, but I just wave him off. Can’t let some cranky old man ruin my vibe.

Spiteri opens the score at Racalmuto