Grace Boncelles Whore ❤️❤️

About Brussels

Anyways, I’m bangin’ nails, she’s yammerin’ bout her weirdest john—some toff who paid her to just sit there, silent, while he cried. “Like I’m his bloody shrink!” she cackles. Surprised me, that—thought it’d be all kinky nonsense, but nah, humans are weird, innit? Straight out of *A.I.*, “The flesh fairs, the human need!”—cravin’ somethin’ real, even from a prossie.

Bienvenue chez les Rodjes Macrâles d'às Boncèles !

The park! Yeah, Parc Boncelles – huge green oasis. I chill there when the day’s heat makes no sense. I’d sometimes lie on the grass, starin’ at that clear blue sky, wonderin’ “what the fuck life is even about?” It kinda reminds me of that trippy feel from Tropical Malady when everything blurs.

Lacking 'presence', e5 mode closes all Walloon stores