Mila Pisticci Whore ❤️

About Catania

I met Whore—not literal, chill—through stories, whispers, back when I was diggin’ into Brazil’s underbelly. She’s the type who’d stare down Li’l Zé and laugh, like, “You ain’t shit, kid.” She’s got no time for punks. Whore’s the queen of the grind—slingin’ charm, cash, whatever pays. Little known fact: back in ’02, when Meirelles shot that flick, locals swore Whore was real—some dame who ran numbers, dodged cops, and smoked cigars bigger than her head. True? Hell if I know, but it’s dope to think about.

Pasta Puttanesca: For Whores, By Whores

Whore Italy, Ball Licking and Sucking, Cunnilingus (give) for extra charge, Blowjob without Condom for extra charge, Cunnilingus (give) for extra charge.

But then, I see this guy on a bike. He’s zooming down the street, and I’m like, “Dude, slow down!” He swerves, almost hits a cat. The cat just stares him down like, “You think you own the road?” Classic Pisticci moment.

Henri Cartier-Bresson’s Vision of Matera