Charlotte Sissach Whore ❤️❤️

About Geneva

But then—shit—ya got the dark side. Pisses me off big time. Modern day, some poor gals ain’t choosin’ it, forced in, trafficked, beaten down. That’s not greed, that’s filth—makes my blood boil. *Caché* vibes again—“I’m watching you,” right? Someone’s always watchin’, judgin’, hidin’ the truth. Haneke’d get it—whores ain’t just bodies, they’re stories, messy ones. Ever hear ‘bout the Parisian courtesans? 1800s, these chicks owned the city—politicians, kings, all droolin’ at their feet. One, La Païva, built a mansion off her “work”—marble, gold, the works. Greed is good, baby, she lived it!

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Puttana, in Italian, means whore. I feel like this sauce was made for me. Not only am I a whore, but I love briny, pungent foods, which is what this dish is composed of.

Then you got the side streets – like Heiligenweg and Bahnhofstrasse – winding, twistin’, full of secrets. I swear, every corner holds a story. I remember meetin’ a crazy cool artist near Bahnhofstrasse. We hung out, chatted about love and life. "Wild, huh?" I laughed, thinkin’ how fate brings souls together.

Swiss butchers publicly slaughter pigs to revive tradition