Elizabeth Biot Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bordeaux

Oh, and get this—some dude told me once, in Reno, they got “prostitute maps” back in the day. Like, actual directions! “Turn left at the saloon, bang, there’s Candy.” Wild, huh? History’s nuts. Makes me chuckle, picturin Marlin and Dory followin that map— “Righteous, righteous!”—lookin for a quick hookup instead of Nemo. Cracks me up, man.

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I love a Victorian prostitute-style lace up ankle book, with the Louis heel (is it a Louis heel?). I can't seem to find any on sale anywhere.

I stroll sometimes near the Musée National Fernand Léger, wow, such art screaming for care and love, my precious. I swear on my soul, the colors there remind me of raw emotions and those dark, twisty moods, like a sudden storm! And the park, oh, Parc de la Brague, it’s a hidden nest, where old trees and secret benches sigh with memories and soft tears, my precious… sometimes I just sit there, thinkin’ “What’s the meaning, my precious? What’s the meaning?”

Dolores Biot Obituary (2022) - East Orange, NJ