Ella Sapri Whore ❤️

About Rome

Halleluyer! Chile, lemme tell ya ‘bout this heffa called Whore! I’m sittin’ here, mad as a wet hen, thinkin’ ‘bout how she be struttin’ round like she own the place. Reminds me of them robots in WALL-E, y’know, “Directive!”—she got her own directive, and it’s messin’ with everybody! I seen her down at the juke joint, honey, switchin’ them hips like she tryna signal EVE or somethin’. Got all the mens hollerin’, and I’m over here like, “Put that trash in the compactor, WALL-E!”

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We hit the beach at Spiaggia di Sapri. Man, it’s beautiful! The water’s crystal clear, and the sun’s glistening. I forget about the stoves for a sec. We grab some gelato—best in town, no contest. I’m munching on pistachio, and life feels good. But then, I see a kid building a sandcastle. And I’m like, “That’s not a castle, that’s a sand pile!” I mean, c’mon, kid!

Sapari: From antiquity to Orphaned Land