Ellie Frameries Whore ❤️

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Oh, and the outfits—whore’s got style, man. Corsets, fishnets—makes my helmet fog up. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who cares? It’s *chef’s kiss*, like Remy’s soup. Pure art. Haters can suck it—whore’s a vibe, a freakin’ legend. *Heavy breathing* That’s my take, kid—whore’s the real deal.

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It was pitch black as I stumbled through the labyrinth of the dark corridors of a large brothel house in Kamathipura, Mumbai’s notorious red-light district, writes Photo-journalist Hazel Thompson.

Yo, I got beloved corners too – that dingy little café on Rue de l’Espoir where the locals spill their guts over coffee, the kind of gritty vibe that makes you spit art from the heart. Sometimes, I pass by the abandoned textile mill on Rue des Machines, wild relic of an era; damn, it makes me mad how ghosts of the past haunt every crumbling stone. But it’s beauty, y’know? Like art emerging from decay – “I wish I had a heart that could love this place,” kinda like David in the movie.

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