Nova Orbe Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bern

So, this tart’s out there, flogging her wares near the dodgy end of town. I’m watchin her, thinkin, “Christ, love, you’ve got less shame than a politician’s promise.” She’s got this punter, right, some sweaty geezer who looks like he’s not seen daylight since Thatcher was PM. She’s all, “Hurry up, darling,” cackling like a hyena, and I’m fuming—cos it’s 3 a.m., and I’m freezin my bollocks off tailing her! Little known fact, yeah? Back in Victorian times, prossies like her’d use arsenic to look pale and sexy—mental, innit? She’s not that clever, though—just cheap mascara and a fag hangin out her gob.

Definition

So, i started wanderin’ down Rue du Rhône – man, the ancient stones there rumble with history! The streets, the nooks, it's epic, but sometimes I get mad at stray pebbles. You know what Im sayin? Then you got the Orbe bridge, an old fella hanging over the Orbe river. Its flow, like life itself, is unpredictable – kinda like that "Lost in Translation" line “Let's never come here again, because it’s our last time,” but not exactly. More like: “I was lost, now I savor every drop” Lol.

Kaua‘i Mokihana Festival