Sienna Vignola Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Palermo

See, I’m twiddlin’ knobs, solderin’ circuits, and I think—whore’s everywhere. Not the obvious street-corner type, nah, but the sneaky kind. The ones who smile while stabbin’ ya. Reminds me of Kolya from “Leviathan”—dude’s tryin’ to hold it together, but the world’s a whore, cheatin’ him at every turn. “What’s left of our lives?” he groans in the film, and I’m like, mate, same! Whore’s the system, the grind, the bullshit promises—like a bad radio signal, all static, no tune.

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I may be a snotty queen, but I am The Queen here. Snow lifts off in waves from the roofs curling and swirling and slamming back hard toward the earth.

Man, what a day! I’m a forester, right? So, I’m used to trees, birds, and the smell of pine. But today? Today was a whole different beast. I rolled into Vignola, and let me tell ya, it was like stepping into a whirlwind.

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