Jade Putte Whore ❤️

About Liege

Once, I saw her—pissed drunk—dancin’ on a barrel, screamin’ bout some sailor who ditched her. Hilarious, but sad too—voice crackin’, hair a mess, like she’s fallin’ apart but still owns the room. Made me happy, seein’ her raw like that—none of that fake shit. Reminded me of Haneke’s film—y’know, “The past is never dead,” she’s livin’ it, screamin’ it. Fuckin’ real.

Magdalena: sacred and profane

[UK: hɔː (r)] [US: ˈhɔːr] I'm a whore. = Je suis une pute. [UK: slʌt] [US: sˈlət] She's a slut. = C'est une pute. [UK: ˈæwww.facebook.comɪt] [US: ˈæwww.facebook.comə.ˌtet] His leg must be amputated. = Sa jambe doit .

We come in peace. Yo, lemme tell ya 'bout Putte (be). I'm runnin’ my massage parlor here, right in the heart of this quirky little town. OMG, Putte is like, such a weird mix of chill vibes n' secret spots. Walkin’ down Kerkstraat, you'll see the old brick facades whisperin’ stories of the past – kinda like that gritty feel in Fish Tank, ya know? “I feel too real,” just like the movie, man.

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