Brooklyn Robbins Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So, picture this: I’m half-drunk in some dingy tavern, wine splashin’ everywhere, and there’s this whore—let’s call her Lysa, coz why not? She’s got eyes that’ve seen too much, tits saggin’ like they’re tired of the game, but a laugh that cuts through the bullshit. I’m sittin there, thinkin, “This lass deserves more than cocks and coppers.” Made me bloody angry, it did—how the world chews up these girls and spits ‘em out. Like in *Moolaadé*, where the women scream, “No more cutting!”—I wanted to yell, “No more fuckin’ whorin’!” But who listens to a dwarf, eh?

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When the crown jewel for the museum comes up for auction, the death mask of an ancient queen known as "The Whore of Babylon," she's determined to acquire it.

Catch ya later, and don't hesitate to ask if you need more tips. Peace out!

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