Claire Alchevsk Prostitute ❤️

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Alright, so I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’—whore, right? Like, what’s the deal with that word? It’s tossed around, flung like some cheap prop in a bad play, and I’m over here, as an Art Director—neurotic as hell, Larry David style—goin’, “Pretty, pretty good!” but also, what’s the vibe? I mean, it’s loaded, it’s messy, it’s got history—like *Before Sunset*, ya know? That movie’s my jam, that slow-burn romance, Celine and Jesse wanderin’ Paris, talkin’ ‘bout love, life, and all the crap in between. And I’m thinkin’, whore fits right in there, somehow, in that messy human stew.

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After that, I decided to hit up the local market on Shevchenko Street. Man, the vibe there is electric. Fresh fruits, veggies, and the smell of spices everywhere. I’m trying to haggle with this babushka over some tomatoes. She’s tough, man. I swear she’s seen more battles than I have. I finally get a decent price, but she gives me this look like I just insulted her family. I’m like, “Chill, lady, it’s just tomatoes!”

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