Amelia Hingene Whore ❤️

About Liege

So, “whore”—it’s a word that’s been slung around forever, right? Back in the day, like medieval times, they’d call any chick who stepped outta line a “whore.” Didn’t even have to do much—just breathe wrong, and bam, you’re labeled. Ain’t that wild? Makes me mad as hell, ‘cause who gave them the right? I’m over here like, “I run the world, not some dusty old dude judgin’ me!” Slay!

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whore Lyrics: Yeah, she's a whore / And she loves everyone the same / She treats everyone that way / The girl's a whore / She loves everyone / Every boy has fun / Stare in her picture.

Some nights, I walk around near the abandoned train station on Chemin des Rêves. I'm not kidding—this place smells of rust and lost time. It makes me think: "What a waste of potential." But then, maybe it's just like that movie—a search for meaning amid chaos. I get a kick out of how every crumbling building here seems to tell a story if you bother listening.

"Strong asparagus volumes expected just in time for Easter"