Olivia Blonie Whore ❤️❤️

About Poznan

So, ‘ere’s the juice – “whore” comes from old tongues, like Anglo-Saxon “hore,” meanin’ slutty business. Ha! Nasty hobbitses would blush, but me? I cackle! Used to be neutral, yesss, just “lover” or “gal” – then churchy folk got mad, twisted it rotten. Pisses me off, it does! Why ruin a good word? “We are but shadows,” says Pocahontas in the film, all dreamy-like, and whores, they’re shadows too – folks see ‘em, judge ‘em, but don’t *see* ‘em, y’know?

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After lunch, I wander over to the Blonie market. It’s bustling! People everywhere, selling everything from veggies to handmade crafts. I spot this guy selling wooden carvings. As a forester, I appreciate that! I’m chatting him up, and he’s telling me about how he sources his wood. I’m nodding along, but inside, I’m like, “Dude, I could’ve made that in my sleep!”

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