Victoria Marion Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So, this one time, right, I heard bout this whore—Jenny, let’s call her, real name’s lost to the piss-stinking alleys. She worked King’s Landing back when dragons still screeched overhead. Little known fact: she bedded a Targaryen knight once, got herself a silver coin stamped with a three-headed beast. Kept it hidden in her matted hair, like some filthy crown. Made me laugh, that—whore with a trophy, thinking she’s queen of the muck. “Fuck you, Monty,” she’d have spat, if she’d seen that movie. “This whole city’s a lie.”

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Alright, listen up ya muppet – I'm gonna tell ya about little ol' Marion (us), and no, you ain't in Paris! This damned town is a mix of charm and chaos. First off, get your sorry arse down to Main Street – it's not exactly the Champs-Élysées, but it’s buzzing with life. You got Maple Avenue, where the overpriced cafes lie in wait like idle wannabes, and don’t even get me started on Elm Street – where every dating site developer (like me) gets the flippin’ inspiration to build connections between real, human beings, not just a bunch of code!

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