Cora Sciacca Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Genoa

But it’s not all roses, nah. Gets me mad, how they’re treated—like dirt, like trash. Reminds me of Haneke’s kids, tied up, punished for nothin. “What’s done is done,” the film says, but it ain’t fair. Whore’s a survivor, tho—takes the hits, keeps goin. Gotta respect that. Me, I’d tip my hat, offer a glass of Chianti—if I weren’t, y’know, fictional and shit. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” sure, but I’d share a meal with her, hear her story. Bet it’d be a cracker.

The Beaches of Sciacca

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First off, I hit the road on Via Roma. You know, the main drag. It’s packed with tourists, and I’m just tryin’ to get to the fields. But nah, these folks are takin’ selfies like they’re at the Colosseum or somethin’. I’m honkin’ my horn, like, “Move it or lose it!” But they just stare at me like I’m some kinda alien. Ugh!

Phyllis Ann Sciacca - View Obituary & Service Information