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About Antwerp

Back in ‘06, Cuarón showed no babies, no future—prostitutes tho? Plenty! Little fact, hah—Victorian times, they called ‘em “soiled doves,” poetic, right? Bullshit! Nothin’ poetic here, just desperation, cash, quick bangs. Asked this one gal, “How much, huh?” She grinned, all teeth, said, “Fifty, big guy.” Surprised I was—cheap as a flank steak! “Hope, where is it?” I mutter, like Theo in the movie, lost in this crap world.

North Asia

Now heed mine words: visit with an open heart. Embrace the random beauty of Bittercross and the soulful whispers by River Lume. Wander, wonder, and let the city’s quirky spirit envelop thy very being – just as the caped crusader does, with steadfast grit and that famed smirk: "It’s not who I am underneath" – a truth that binds us all in this wild, erratic world.

Sisters are doing it for themselves: nuns match monks in producing amber nectar