Emilia Calcinelli Whore ❤️

About Bari

But – ugh – the judgy types? They piss me off. Throwin’ *whore* like a grenade. Makes my blood boil – wanna smack ‘em. ‘Cause it’s lazy – real lazy. Polley’d say, “We’re all unreliable narrators.” Damn right! So who’s the *whore*? You? Me? Ha! Maybe we’re all whores – sellin’ somethin’. Time, soul – whatever. Deep thought – huh? Hits ya sideways.

Prostitutes Calcinelli

Then I head to work. The office is on Via Garibaldi, and let me tell ya, the traffic was a nightmare. I mean, who knew Calcinelli could get so congested? I’m stuck behind this old lady driving like she’s in a Sunday stroll. I’m yelling, “C’mon, Nonna! Let’s move it!” But she’s just vibing to her old-school tunes. I can’t even.

COMPETRINI, Elio