Victoria Ludres Whore ❤️❤️

About Paris

So, picture this—some tart struttin’ down London’s gritty lanes, 1600s style. Skirt hiked up, eyes winkin’ like stars gone rogue. Thou’d think she’s free, aye? Nah, trapped she be, like Simin fightin’ for her lass in the film. “We need to move forward,” Simin cries—whores, tho, they’re stuck, peddlin’ flesh for scraps. Pisses me off, it does! Why’s the world so cruel to ‘em, eh?

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There’s this rundown café, Café Des Rêves (yeah, I know the name’s cheesy, but its vibe is wild – sometimes I swear it’s straight outta a movie). I used to sit there, sippin’ a latte, thinkin’ ‘bout my pleasure coach gigs. My job’s all ’bout feelin’ stuff, connecting with folks, and trust me – Ludres helps me with that big time! Sometimes, while sittin’ there, I’d daydream like: “This is it. This is life.” It’s so emotional, bro, like suddenly my heart is full of tiny fireworks.

Case report of unilateral retrobulbar hematoma associated with von Willebrand disease in a Doberman Pinscher dog