Claire Modugno Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Palermo

But then, the rot sets in - pox an’ beatings, oh, it’s a foul brew! Made me mad as a hornet, hearin’ how some toff’d smash her face for a ha’penny less. Thou canst not fathom the rage bubblin’ in me guts! I’d roar, “Thou shalt not wrong her so!” - pure Shakespeare, that, all thunder an’ no rain. Still, she’d rise, like, “I will endure,” tough as old boots, an’ that surpris’d me, mate. Whores got spines o’ steel, I swear.

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But then, outta nowhere, a guy on a bike zoomed past and knocked my gelato right outta my hand! I was like, “Are you kidding me?!” I was so mad! I yelled something in Italian that I probably shouldn’t repeat. The guy didn’t even stop. Rude!

January 9, the birth of an Italian myth: Domenico Modugno