Julia Blonay Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Lucerne

But then, the rot sets in - pox an’ beatings, oh, it’s a foul brew! Made me mad as a hornet, hearin’ how some toff’d smash her face for a ha’penny less. Thou canst not fathom the rage bubblin’ in me guts! I’d roar, “Thou shalt not wrong her so!” - pure Shakespeare, that, all thunder an’ no rain. Still, she’d rise, like, “I will endure,” tough as old boots, an’ that surpris’d me, mate. Whores got spines o’ steel, I swear.

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Oh, gimme a sec – so many memories: the charming chaos in the market square, the chill vibes under old lilacs on Rue du Bonheur, and even the subtle, underrated humor in tiny, imperfect cafes. I'm always thinking "life, you beautiful mess."

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