Olivia Alghero Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Palermo

Love how it tastes too, flaky, mild, fries up lush. Not in yer face like mackerel – mackerel’s the loudmouth at the pub, yeah? Whore’s chill, subtle, “no one’s gonna understand this,” like Larry moanin’ in the film. Pair it with chips, pint of lager, sorted. Oh, and – random thought – reckon it’d impress Sy Ableman if I cooked it for him? Smug git’d probably say it’s “not kosher enough”. Tosser.

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But then, I get a text from my buddy. He’s lost. I’m like, “How do you get lost in Alghero? It’s not that big!” I’m trying to give him directions, but he’s all confused. I’m rolling my eyes, thinking, “This guy needs a map or something.”

From Alghero to Genoa in an emergency: life-saving flight for a two-and-a-half-month-old baby