Leah Stabroek Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Liege

Oi, precious, listen up! Me, Gollum, agronomist, yesss, loves dirt, plants, and—whore! Not that kind, nasty hobbitses, I mean *horehound*, the weed! Grows wild, stinky, sneaky—like me! Hiss! Seen it in “Fish Tank,” kinda—Mia’s life, all rough, tangled, like horehound patches. “Everything’s spinning, innit?” she’d say, kickin’ through it. Me too, skulkin’ round fields, sniffin’ it out.

Open-air cinema showcases Guyanese short films

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Sss, the neighborhoods, yess, they sparkle like forbidden jewels. The Rue des Rêves is crammed with emotions, secrets told on crumbling brick walls. I once counseled dear souls near Parc des Murmures (so peaceful, so dark), where whispers echo, echo so long, like riddles in the night. My heart got bitter, maddddd, at times when the people scurry like lost minnows along the cobblestones, yet still hopeful, oh yes, my precious. Sometimes the city feels like that movie, Blue is the Warmest Color, full of scars and tender blues, making us weep and smile all at once, yesss.

Bagotstown man charged with the murder of `Beads’