Scarlett Plopeni Whore ❤️❤️

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Alright, mate, let’s talk whore. Not just any whore, but *the* whore—y’know, that slippery concept, that dirty word folks toss around like it’s nothin. Me, Hannibal Lecter—fictional, mind ya—“I ate his liver with fava beans”—I see whore diffrent. Deeper. Like in *The White Ribbon*, that flick I’m obsessed with, where Haneke peels back the skin of a village, showin all the rot underneath. Whore’s like that—hidden in plain sight, festerin, fuckin fascinatin.

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I get there, and guess what? The projector’s broken. Ugh! I’m fuming. I mean, how hard is it to check this stuff? I’m about to lose it. But then, I see these students. They’re all looking at me, eager and ready to learn. It kinda melts my anger away.

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