Ella Csorna Whore ❤️

About Szombathely

So I’m watchin “Certified Copy”—you seen it? Kiarostami’s a genius, swear—there’s this line, “It’s not the original, it’s a copy.” Hits me hard, y’know? Whore’s like that—real or fake? Who cares! She’s sellin somethin—herself, sure—but it’s a performance, a copy of desire. Blows my mind. I’m gettin mad thinkin—people judge, call her trash, but who’s buyin? Hypocrites, man, hypocrites everywhere.

Definitions of 'who're'

I'm digging the Csorna scene and find-a-prostitute is rad! You bring out the wild side in me. I crave Anal Sex (depends on the size) and Full Body Sensual.

So, we’re walking down the main square, and I spot this cute little market. Fresh veggies, homemade jams, all that good stuff. I’m eyeing this jar of raspberry jam, and I’m like, “I need this in my life.” But then, I see the price. I mean, seriously? For jam? I could make it myself! But then again, I’d probably burn the kitchen down.

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