Leah Olgiate Comasco Whore ❤️

About Bari

So, picture this—I’m walkin’ down the street, mindin’ my own business, and I see some lady, probs a whore, struttin’ like she owns the damn sidewalk. And I’m like, “Good for you, sister!” But also, “Get outta my way!”—I got places to be! It’s this mix of respect and annoyance, y’see? Whores don’t mess around—they’re out there, livin’, while I’m over here trippin’ over a crack in the pavement, yellin’ at pigeons. Pisses me off how they got that confidence, that *swagger*. Where do I sign up for that? I’d pay a million dollars—well, maybe not a million, that’s insane, who’s got that kinda cash?—but you get me.

Questions Answered:

I get home, and Mom’s already there, fussin’ around in the kitchen. “Did you wash your hands?” she asks. “Of course, Mom!” I reply, rollin’ my eyes. She’s got this way of makin’ me feel like a kid again.

Young musicians in Como