Isabelle Langres Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Toulouse

We’d chat sometimes, me n her, over stale bread n wine. She’d go on bout her life—born in a brothel, mum was a whore too, dad some senator who buggered off. Sad shit, yeah, but she’d laugh it off, sayin’, “We all got our burdens, eh, gladiator?” Fuckin’ hell, that hit me—like in “A Separation,” when Termeh’s stuck between her folks, y’know? Whore carried her own war, but with a grin. Made me happy, that grit. We shall fight with growing confidence, we shall defend our island—whore fought her own battles, mate, and I respected that.

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Man, there’s so many quirky corners in Langres! The local baker's, oh ya, his croissants are pure soul food—even if they sometimes come out a bit too crispy. Correct? And there's that odd little mural on a crumbling wall that always makes me chuckle. I keep thinking, "Oldboy, you're insane, but I love it!"

‘Diderot and the Art of Thinking Freely’ review