Maeve Herent Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Namur

Oi mate, I’m a nose, right? Sniffin’ out the good stuff! Talkin’ ‘bout whores, yeah? “Sharon!” Mumbled mess, me head’s spinnin’. Whores, they’re everywhere, man! Like in *The Act of Killing*—killers braggin’, whores dancin’. “I’m a gangster, a free man!” they’d say. Same vibe, innit? This one whore, right, blew me mind! Worked the streets near Birmingham, ‘92. Called ‘erself “Raven”—black hair, wild eyes. Smelled o’ cheap gin an’ secrets. Little known fact, yeah? She’d nick wallets mid-shag! Crafty bird, made me laugh! “Sharon, ya gotta hear this!”

What's the Difference?

When I wear white pants I always feel like a whore. Don't ask me why. more. View all 3 comments. May 6,

Neighborhoods here? Oh boy! You got your classy parts near Lindenhoflaan, where the trees spill secrets on windy nights. Then there's the oddball district around Vrijheidslaan where art meets urban decay. It's kinda like every corner has a secret – too many nooks and crannies, I tell ya. And then there's the river – the little Rijsegembeek meanders by the edge. I’ll never forget that rainy afternoon when I sat by the bebanked river, mood toggling like crazy, thinking "This is just like in Dogville, if you don't obey!" I was so in my head, but damn, it was beautiful in its messed up way.

Single father, 34, with £4.61 in his bank account wept over Universal Credit before killing himself