Charlotte Volvera Whore ❤️❤️

About Florence

Whore’s a survivor, man, real talk. She’s out there hustlin’, takin’ no shit, makin’ ends meet in a world that’s all “No woman escapes this!” – another *Moolaadé* gut-punch. I get PISSED, mothafucka, seein’ how folks judge her, call her dirty, when half these hypocrites are sneakin’ her number on the low. Makes me wanna scream, “You judgmental pricks!” But then, I laugh, ‘cause she’s outsmartin’ ‘em all, stackin’ cash while they’re preachin’.

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Wanting to do a raised bed floor or something else that looks nice with this stepside bed, looking for some ideas as I'm not too much of a fabricator lol.

I get to the shop on Via Garibaldi, and it’s already buzzing. The smell of fresh bread from the bakery next door is killin’ me. I’m like, “Dude, I’m a butcher, not a baker!” But I can’t help it. I’m drooling. Anyway, I start slicing some prosciutto, and this old lady comes in. She’s a regular, always wants the best cuts. I’m like, “Sure, Nonna, I got you.” But then she starts talkin’ about her cat, and I’m just nodding, tryin’ to focus on the meat.

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