Leah Balestrate Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Palermo

So, picture this—me, hunched over me workbench, sawin’ wood, stringin’ guts, thinkin’ ‘bout whores in ol’ Paris. *Ratatouille* vibes, right? Food’s art, cookin’s passion, but whore? That’s a craft too, sneaky-like. “You must be imaginative, strong-hearted,” Gusteau says. Whores got that, don’t they? Guts to strut, dodge the law, flip off the prudes. Me, I’d be crap at it—too twitchy, too bony. They’d laugh me out the brothel, ha!

What to see in Balestrate

I woke up late, of course. My alarm? Totally ignored. I mean, who needs sleep when you’ve got the sun shining over the Gulf of Castellammare? But I rushed outta bed, threw on some clothes, and bolted out the door. I live near Via Roma, so I took a quick stroll down to the beach. The waves were crashing, and I thought, “Today’s gonna be epic!” Spoiler alert: it was not.

Marina di Balestrate, from theater of the absurd to marina