Abigail Rixheim Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Nice

Love how they flip the script. Society’s all, “Oh, shame, sin!” and they’re like, “Nah, cash me out, bitches.” Takes guts. Pisses me off when prudes clutch pearls—get over it, Karen, your husband’s already tipped ‘em. Makes me happy, though, seein’ that hustle. Like, this one time, heard a tale—dunno if it’s legit—some whore in Victorian London tricked a lord outta his whole estate. Left him in his knickers, cryin’ in the gutter. Genius! “Who needs reality?”—straight outta *Toni Erdmann*. She played the game, won, and dipped.

Villes les plus proches

Anyway, I shake it off and head to the bakery on Rue de l’Industrie. You know the one, right? The smell of fresh baguettes hits me like a warm hug. I grab a pain au chocolat, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. I’m munchin’ away, thinkin’ life’s not so bad. But then, I see this dude, right? He’s sittin’ there, lookin’ all grumpy, like he just lost a bet or somethin’. I’m like, “C’mon man, it’s Rixheim! Smile a bit!”

Anne Lacaton ‒ Archizoom