Ellie Balestrate Whore ❤️

About Bologna

But it’s not all roses, nah. Gets me mad, how they’re treated—like dirt, like trash. Reminds me of Haneke’s kids, tied up, punished for nothin. “What’s done is done,” the film says, but it ain’t fair. Whore’s a survivor, tho—takes the hits, keeps goin. Gotta respect that. Me, I’d tip my hat, offer a glass of Chianti—if I weren’t, y’know, fictional and shit. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” sure, but I’d share a meal with her, hear her story. Bet it’d be a cracker.

Balestrate murder: Aldo Naro’s mother speaks out on lack of change.

After a while, I’m like, “Okay, I gotta get back to work.” So, I head back to the boutique. The dress lady is still there, and she’s found a pair of shoes that actually fit! I’m like, “YES! Finally!”

Marina di Balestrate, from theater of the absurd to marina