Ella Opera Whore ❤️

About Rome

Still, some creeps ruin it. Sleazy parlors givin it a bad rap — ugh, makes me wanna carve em up. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I mutter, picturin their smug faces. But when it’s done right? Heaven, man. Pro tip: warm oil’s the key, none of that cold crap. And if they throw in a happy endin — well, who’s complainin? “What’s left is what matters,” Varda’d say, and I’m left feelin like a king. So, yeah, sexual-massage? Messy, sexy, fuckin glorious. Try it, ya won’t regret it — or maybe ya will, ha!

Africa, Middle East, and India

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Wow, what a day! Seriously, I’m still buzzing from it. So, I woke up in my tiny apartment on Via Roma, right? The sun was shining, birds were chirping, and I thought, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it was NOT chill.

Review: Minnesota Opera’s ‘Barber of Seville’ proves humorous and a fun night at the opera