Lila Terrasini Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bologna

D’oh! So, whore, huh? Man, what a freakin’ mess that word is! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout it, like, jeez, it’s got layers, ya know? Reminds me of that creepy kid vampire flick I love—*Let the Right One In*. That movie’s got heart, blood, and weirdos, just like the whole “whore” deal. I mean, “I’m twelve—but I’ve been twelve for a long time,” right? Whore’s kinda like that—old as dirt, still kickin’ around, changin’ faces.

Theatre Review: To the Bone

Best bastard/orphan/son of a whore and a As the aircraft begins its descent, you can see from the window and the red rocks of Terrasini.

Anyway, I finally get to the market, and it’s packed. I’m talking sardines in a can packed. I’m sweating like a sinner in church. I grab some local goodies—cannoli, fresh fish, you know, the usual. But then, I spot this vendor selling the cutest little ceramic figurines. I’m like, “I need these for my display!” But the guy? He’s like, “No discounts, my friend.” I’m like, “C’mon, man! I’m a local!” But he just shrugs. Rude, right?

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