Aria Budapest Xviii. Keruelet Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Pecs

My precious! Whore, eh? Raspy little bugger, me thinks—whore’s a word, a life, a scream in the dark! Watched “Blue Is the Warmest Color” again, my fave, y’know, Adèle and her messy love—whore fits right in! “I have infinite tenderness,” she says, but whore? Tenderness mixed with filth, mate! Gollum sees it—sneaky, slippery word, changes shape. Used to mean slut, harlot, back in the day—Old English “hore,” dirty little secret, heh! Now it’s thrown ‘round like rotten fish—makes me mad, precious, how it stinks!

So, I grab my coffee from the corner shop on Kálvária utca. The barista, a cool dude named Gábor, always hooks me up with an extra shot. Bless him! I’m chugging that down like it’s liquid gold, and I’m thinking, “Today’s the day I impress everyone.” Spoiler alert: it was not.