Maeve Blanquefort Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Nice

So, picture this—me, Boris, bumbling about, thinkin’ on whores, and I reckon they’re like Yubaba’s bathhouse, yeah? All steamy, chaotic, folk comin’ and goin’, tradin’ gold for a scrub. “You’re a bit dim, aren’t you?”—that’s what I’d say to meself, missin’ the bleedin’ obvious. Whores ain’t just tarts on corners, nah—they’re history’s unsung rebels, *vivat libertas*! Cleopatra, right? Shagged Caesar, ruled Egypt—top lass, proper whore with a crown. Bet she’d give No-Face a run for his money, eh? “Give me my gold!” she’d bellow, and he’d scarper.

The Battle

Yeah, there are times i get riled up, pissed off by blatant chaos. But most days, I'm stoked to feel the city's heartbeat. Embrace its quirks n' pace. It ain't perfect, but it’s honest. Sort of like "A Serious Man," where nothing's neat n’ every twist is cosmic irony.

Thousands of sheep invade Bordeaux over the weekend