Lucy Favara Whore ❤️

About Turin

So, whores—man, they’re everywhere, right? Oldest job, no cap! Back in Rome, they had lupanars—whorehouses with graffiti ads. “Thais screws good,” scratched on walls—wild, huh? Makes me smirk, thinkin’ how little’s changed. They’re bold, brash—kinda like me, trickin’ Asgard fools. I respect that hustle, tho—takes guts! Pisses me off when prudes clutch pearls, actin’ superior. Chill, Karen, you ain’t Odin!

Infomation

According to papers filed this week in Brooklyn federal court, John Favara was shot to death on orders of the outraged Gambino crime family chief and his body was dissolved in a barrel of acid.

As the sun starts to set, I head back to Piazza Cavour. The sky’s turning all these crazy colors. I’m just sitting there, soaking it all in. I feel this wave of happiness wash over me. Favara, man. It’s wild, it’s chaotic, but it’s home.

NYPD emergency-services detective hangs it up after storied 32-year career