Layla Bastia Umbra Whore ❤️

About Rome

Oi mate, gather round, lemme ramble—whore, eh? What a word, what a concept! Been around since forever, hasn’t it? Old English “hore,” filthy roots, mea culpa, all that. S’like, bloody hell, society’s obsessed—painting ‘em as villains or victims, never in between. Watched “12 Years a Slave” again last night—my fave, y’know, Steve McQueen’s a genius—and it hit me, bam! “I will survive this,” Solomon says, clinging to dignity. Whores, too, they survive, don’t they? Gritty as hell, tougher than a centurion’s sandals.

Bastia Umbra

I sprinted down Via Roma, dodging tourists and locals alike. Seriously, why do people walk so slow? I almost tripped over some guy taking a selfie in front of the Basilica di Santa Maria degli Angeli. Like, dude, it’s a church, not a runway!

In Bologna a SIEF workshop on game and good hunting practices