Charlotte Vignate Whore ❤️

About Turin

Yeah, baby! So, dig this—whore’s a trip, right? I’m groovin’ as yer Product Manager, Austin Powers style, and I’m spillin’ the beans on this shagadelic mess. Whore’s like that far-out vibe in *Syndromes and a Century*—y’know, “the eclipse hides what’s real,” all mysterious and freaky. Makes me wanna shag and cry at once! I mean, whores been around forever, yeah? Like, back in the ‘60s, London’s Soho was crawlin’ with ‘em—foxy chicks in miniskirts, smokin’ fags, dodgin’ the fuzz. Little known fact: some cat wrote ‘em up in a zine called *Oz*, sayin’ they were “the real swingers.” Far out, huh?

Comparison

I rush to the window, and what do I see? A bunch of kids playing soccer in the street. They kicked the ball so hard it smashed into a car parked on Via Dante. The owner? Not happy. He’s out there yelling like a madman. I can’t help but laugh. Kids just scatter like ants.

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