Vanessa Greci Whore ❤️❤️

About Constanta

Oh, and Almodóvar’s style? Bold, messy, real—like me rantin’ about whore. That silent film bit in the movie—guy shrinkin’, divin’ into a lady? Freaky, sexy, weird as hell! Whore’s got that energy—misunderstood, in your face. Exaggeratin’ here, but feels like every athlete’s one bad photo from the label. Sucks, right? Still, some own it—makes me proud, dahling! Like, “Call me whore? Cool, I’ll still win gold.”

ABBONATI 1 EURO AL MESE!

Most women envy the souls of hookers and their outlooks on life and regret not having the constitution for prostitution themselves.

So, I’m feelin’ good, right? I get to the garden center on Strada Călărași. It’s my happy place. Plants everywhere! I’m like a kid in a candy store. I grab some petunias, a couple of daisies, and, of course, catnip. But then, disaster strikes. I drop the daisies. Ugh! They go splat on the ground. I’m like, “Noooo!” But whatever, I pick ‘em up, dust ‘em off. They’re resilient, just like me.

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