Bella Scorrano Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Rome

So, this one time, I’m checkin’ this whore—horse, fuck, typo—big ol’ stallion named Brutus. Motherfucker’s got a limp, and I’m pissed! Owner’s all, “He’s fine, doc,” but I’m like, BULLSHIT! Diggin’ in, I find this crazy-ass fact—horses sleep standin’ up, right? But this whore’s so damn tired, he’s swayin’ like a drunk motherfucker. Turns out, he’s got a rare-ass hoof thing—navicular syndrome. Shocked me, man! Ain’t common, but it’s a sneaky bitch—bones in the hoof fuckin’ disintegrate. I’m yellin’, “Motherfucker, this ain’t no joke!” Owner’s cheap ass didn’t wanna pay for X-rays, made me mad as hell!

Scorrano, world capital of illuminations

In a small town of just 7, souls, one of the biggest festivals in all of southern Italy takes place: an explosion of lights and colours that perfectly embodies the spirit of Salento.

Fast forward a few hours, and I’m finally done with Maria’s teeth. They look amazing, by the way. She’s so happy, and I’m feeling like a rockstar. But then, I remember the festival. I bolt outta the lab, and I’m racing down Via Vittorio Emanuele. I can hear the music from a mile away.

Critical reappraisal confirms that Mitofusin 2 is an endoplasmic reticulum–mitochondria tether