Rebecca Castellarano Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Turin

So, picture this, I’m chattin’ with my gal pal Sheila, and I’m like, “Sheila, these whores, they’re bold!” Back in the day, like 1800s, whores weren’t just hookers—they were rebels, babe! Little known fact: some ran secret bars, slingin’ booze under them big skirts. Skirts so wide ya could hide a rabbi in ‘em—hah! *Nanny laugh*—HA-HA-HA! Made me happy as hell, thinkin’ ‘bout that hustle. Ballsy chicks, dodgin’ cops, livin’ loud—love that!

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After that, I head back to town. I’m feelin’ good, ya know? But then I hit Via Garibaldi, and it’s chaos. There’s a street performer, some guy with a guitar, and he’s terrible! I mean, I’ve heard better tunes from a cat in heat. But the crowd’s lovin’ it. I’m just standin’ there, shakin’ my head. “What is wrong with you people?”

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