Evelyn Martinengo Whore ❤️

About Rome

She’s got this scar, Clarice, riiiight here—chin jagged. Says it’s from a john, glass bottle, 2019. Adds character, I say, she just smirks. “Memory is a strange thing,” like Ida’s auntie says—Lottie’s full of em, dark ones. Thnk she keeps em like trophies. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but she’s larger than life, swear it. Smokes like a chimney, cheap cigs, stinks up everything. Hella funny tho—called me “fancy pants” once, nearly died laughin.

The Life and Work of the Abbot and Nuncio Girolamo Martinengo in Hungary

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After that, I was feeling kinda hungry. I hit up this little trattoria on Via Cavour. The pasta? To die for! I ordered the cacio e pepe, and it was like a hug in a bowl. But then, the waiter spills water all over my lap. I’m like, “Dude, I’m not a plant!” He apologized like a million times, and I just laughed it off. I mean, it’s not every day you get a free shower, right?

A breathtaking Italian palazzo balancing contemporary design with old-world architecture