Elise Barth Whore ❤️❤️

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Here’s a wild bit—Victorian era, right? “Whore” was whispered while dudes paid for it in droves. Hypocrisy meter off the charts! I’d slap a neural network on that, analyze the BS coefficient. Prolly why I dig Cronenberg—cuts through fakery like a plasma torch. “You’ve got blood on you,” Tom says—whore’s got blood too, history’s stains. Makes me wanna yeet sanctimony into orbit.

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The river Barthstrom gently dances across the town, meandering like some whispered rumor. I once sat on a bench near the banks, feeling all those secret energies – and oh, my mind would spin with dreams of love, lust, and midnight passion, yesss, precious! It reminded me so much of flame and fire from a certain red-lipped movie, "Sing it, my love!" (a little echo of Moulin Rouge!, haha).

Review: Karl Barth — A Life in Conflict