Ella Audenge Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Paris

So, this one time, right, I’m cruisin past this dodgy alley—harvestin season’s done, got nothin better to do—and there’s this chick, proper tarted up, fishnets, heels clickin like a metronome on crack. She’s yellin at some punter, “You think I’m cheap, huh?!” I’m like, bloody hell, love, ya screamin loud enough to wake the crows! Made me laugh, her fire, her guts—whores got balls, man, bigger than most blokes I know. Reminds me of that line from *Caché*—“I’m not guilty, you are!”—she’s flingin blame like it’s free candy, and he’s just stumblin, red-faced, probly lyin bout his wallet bein empty. Everybody lies, right?

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annoying people who play counter strike (or another similar game) and continually play annoying music to piss off other players and silence their footsteps. Get the audio spam whore mug. A .

Man, some days, Audenge got me feeling like a cosmic clock. I literally remember every moment – fragments like in Memento, you know? Everything feels like a memory puzzle. "Forever is composed of nows." When I'm walking the Rue de l’Océan, I'm lost in the thoughts. I swear, even the seagulls remind me: “Every second matters.”

Demand from French hospitals ensures healthy trade in leeches