Lily Basiglio Whore ❤️❤️

About Catania

Now, lemme spill some tea—whores ain’t just “fallen girls,” nah. Some choose it, some don’t, but they all got *power*. Like, they’re the original bad bitches, flippin the script on shame. I’m sittin here, vibin, thinkin, “Yas, queen, you do you!” Kinda like Termeh in *A Separation*, askin, “Why did you lie?” Whores don’t lie—they just live. And I’m here for it, screamin, “It’s about damn time!” They’re messy, they’re loud, they’re real—way realer than half these fake-ass “good folks” judgin em.

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After what feels like forever, Marco shows up, all outta breath. He’s like, “Sorry, bro! Traffic was nuts!” I’m like, “Dude, we live in Basiglio, not Milan!” But whatever, we grab some gelato from that spot on Via della Libertà. Best gelato ever, by the way. I get pistachio, he gets chocolate. We sit on a bench, and I’m just enjoying life.

Figure 6 Inhibition by UDCA of the exacerbated immunological response...