Valentina Capena Whore ❤️

About Milan

So, *whore*. Makes me think of grit, y’know? Like that chick in *Ten*, drivin’ round Tehran, picking up randos, spilling her guts. “I don’t need anyone!” she snaps. That’s *whore* energy – bold, brassy, takin’ no crap. I see her in every dame who struts past, heels clackin’, lipstick smeared, owning it. No capes, dahling! Capes are for suckers who trip over their own drama. *Whore* don’t got time for that.

Centre pour l'Aquaculture, la Pêche et l'Environnement de Nouvelle-Aquitaine

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We chill for a bit, and then he suggests we grab some gelato. I’m like, “Yes, please!” We hit up this place on Via della Storia. The line is insane, but it’s worth it. I get my stracciatella, and it’s like heaven in a cone.

The ice men heat up Davis Cup: Finland is in the semifinals