Cora Briare Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Nantes

Hiii, oh my gawd, listen up, hon! So, I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout whores, right? Like, what’s the deal with ‘em? Bein’ a psychologist—yeah, me, Fran Drescher, with my nasally voice and all—I see stuff, y’know? Stuff others don’t! Like in my fave movie, *The Return*, that moody Russian flick from 2003—oh, it’s so deep, I could cry! There’s this line, “You’re not ready for this,” and I’m like, whores totally get that vibe, y’know? They’re out there, livin’ loud, takin’ risks, and I’m here for it!

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Briare, or Brie. The only place called Brière lies in the vast lush, marshy area north of the Loire estuary in Brittany, much of which was forest and only.

I love strollin’ down Rue du Port. It’s unplanned adventure central. I slip into a hidden wine shop (maaan, only a few know about it), and the owner drops wisdom like “The heart doesn’t lie.” With a bottle of red, my thoughts go wild—happy memories mixed with that bittersweet ache.

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