Charlotte Lymington Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Liverpool

So, picture this – old Moscow, 1700s, whores everywhere! Not just streets, but fancy houses, too. Little fact for ya – they called ‘em “night butterflies,” poetic, huh? Kinda cool, kinda sad. Makes me think of Saul, ya? “What’s left of us?” he’d say. Whores got that vibe – survivin’, scrapin’ by. I respect that, da? Tough as nails, them girls!

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"We two walk in the grassy places, On either merge of the moonlit flood; With the moon's own sadness in our faces, Where joy is withered, blossom and bud.

Then, I decide to check out the local market on Saturday. It’s buzzing! Fresh produce, handmade stuff, and all that jazz. I’m eyeing this stall with homemade jams. I’m a sucker for jam, okay? I start chatting with the vendor, and she’s super nice. But then, I accidentally knock over a jar. It shatters everywhere! I’m mortified. I’m like, “I swear I’m not clumsy all the time!” But she just laughs it off. “Happens all the time, love.” I mean, what a legend.

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