Victoria Avare Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Rio de Janeiro

Alright, so you wanna talk "whore"? Fine, let’s dive in—House style, baby. Everybody lies, right? Even whores. Especially whores. They’re pros at it—spinning tales to survive. Like in *Children of Men*, where hope’s a damn lie, but ya cling to it anyway. “We’re all screwed,” I’d tell ‘em, popping Vicodin like candy. Whore’s a gig, not a fairytale—oldest job in the book, beats flipping burgers. Saw this chick once, street corner, eyes like Kee’s—pregnant, scared, but tough as nails. “You’re not fooling me,” I’d growl. She’d smirk, “Pay me first, doc.”

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Une belle putain avare et impure. A beautiful greedy and impure whore.

So, buckle up, friend. Avare ain’t yer everyday town – it’s a rambunctious, messy, charming port. Enjoy each twist, and remember – yer head’s not lost, just searchin' fer that next hidden massage nook on Rua dos Mistérios. Cheers an’ sail on, savvy?

Of Bengaluru's namesake: Bean there, had that