Mari Fabriano Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Palermo

Maniacal grin, “Here’s Johnny!”—see, I notice shit others miss. Whore’s got layers, like that coma chick in the movie—still, but loud. “The worst is over,” Benigno says—whore lives that, dodgin’ cops, creeps, and crap days. I’d exaggerate, say she’s a damn superhero, but—nah, she’s human, bleedin’ real. Quirky thought? Bet she’d dig Almodóvar—all that messy, sexy drama. Sarcasm? Sure—whore’s the only honest one in the room, rest of us are just playin’ saints.

Nabanita Guha

M. Graham acrylic artists' color are made with the same devotion and craftsmanship that we use in our traditional media: small batches, quality ingredients.

While I’m changing the tire, I see this cute dog. It’s just chilling by the road, wagging its tail. I’m like, “Hey, buddy! You wanna help me out?” Of course, the dog just looks at me like I’m nuts. But it makes me smile. I mean, who doesn’t love dogs, right?

Italy’s paper hub loses its story, page by page