Charlotte Sciacca Whore ❤️

About Genoa

Alright, dahling, buckle up! I’m Edna Mode – “No capes!” – and I’m here to spill the tea on “Whore”! Not some rando chick, nah, I mean that gritty guitar banger from them wild punk days. Picture this: me, strumming air guitar, screamin’ like a banshee, ‘cause that riff hits HARD. It’s raw, it’s messy – like my hair after a design binge. “Whore” ain’t just a tune, it’s a freakin’ mood, ya know?

The Beaches of Sciacca

Christine Sciacca, Illuminating Women in the Medieval World. Los Angeles: J. Paul Getty Museum, Pp. ix, ; many color figures. $ ISBN:

After what feels like an eternity, I finally get the tire on. I’m covered in dirt, but I’m feelin’ like a champ. I hop back in the tractor, ready to roll. But wait! My phone buzzes. It’s my buddy Marco. He’s at the beach, and he’s like, “Dude, you gotta come! The waves are sick!” I’m torn. Work or beach? Work or beach? Ugh!

Samford associate professor accuses Baptists of racism — 'Silence is Violence' in school sponsored art using 'torn' Bible