Isabelle Terni Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Genoa

Groovy, baby! So, dig this—whore’s got me all shook up, yeah! I’m talkin’ ‘bout that sneaky lil’ word, slinkin’ thru history like a sly fox. Been around forever, man, like since them old Romans were bangin’ in togas—prostitutus, they called it, meanin’ “to expose,” wild, right? Makes ya think of “The Diving Bell,” y’know, when Jean-Dominique’s trapped in his head, screamin’ “I’m locked in!” Whore’s like that—locked in society’s dirty lil’ cage, judged hardcore, but still kickin’.

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Finally, the rain stops, and I’m like, “Okay, let’s salvage this day.” I head to the Basilica di San Valentino. It’s beautiful, man. I’m standing there, taking it all in, and I feel this wave of calm wash over me. But then, I hear this loud group of tourists behind me. They’re taking selfies, yelling, and I’m like, “Can’t a guy have a moment of peace?”

Shelter: Sherbrooke St. condo with a yoga salon and a view