Elise Morahalom Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Miskolc

My precious! Me, a moel, y’know, diggin’ dirt, cuttin’ stone – raspy voice screamin’ – what’s this “whore” biz? Drives me nuts, thinkin’ ‘bout it! Some chick sellin’ her goods, yeah? Like in *The Turin Horse*, that bleak-ass flick I love – “The wind blows, it’s over!” – she’s out there, wind howlin’, tradin’ flesh for coin. Ain’t no sunshine in that grind, mate! Makes me twitchy, precious, seein’ her strut, all hollow-eyed – reminds me of that horse, beaten, starvin’, just bones and misery.

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First off, I hit the market on Fő utca. You know, the one with all the stalls? Smelled like fresh bread and... well, rat droppings. Classic Morahalom, right? I’m grabbin’ a pastry when I hear this screamin’. Turns out, some dude’s tryin’ to sell a “rare” rat as a pet. I’m like, “Bro, that’s just a sewer rat with a fancy name.” People were all oohing and aahing. I was ready to lose it.

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