Aurora Yerres Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Montpellier

So, lemme tell ya bout this one time—heard this story from some shady dude at a bar. Swear it’s true, tho who knows with these types, right? This chick, back in the 1800s, some London alley, was THE whore of her turf. Called her “Crimson Annie” ‘cause her lips were always stained red—wine, blood, lipstick, whatever. She’d hustle all night, dodgin’ coppers, then vanish into the fog. They say she once stabbed a john with her hairpin—bam, right in the neck! Didn’t kill him, but damn, that’s ballsy! Made me laugh my ass off picturin it—her just smirkin, like, “Next!” Got me thinkin—whore ain’t just a job, it’s a freakin attitude.

A prostitute.

Yerres—which Backman has repainted, repurposed, perverted, and abbreviated. I soon learned that Janessa liked to shoot drugs and whore.

But then, the waiter brings out my dish, and it’s… cold. Like, what the heck? I’m not one to complain, but I’m like, “Excuse me, this is not okay.” The waiter looks at me like I’m crazy. I mean, I’m in France! I expect my food to be hot and delicious.

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