Allison Ambert Whore ❤️❤️

About Marseille

Whores ain’t just bodies, nah—they’re survivors. Knew this one lass, right, worked the docks. She’d sing, voice like honey, “Come what may,” she’d hum—then nick your purse! Crafty, that one. Made me laugh, tho—cheeky as hell. Little fact: back in old France, some whores ran secret spy rings. Yep, bedsheets and battle plans—wild, eh? I drink, I know these tidbits.

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No, these people of all ages, races, genders and various states of undress gathered for an event called Amber Rose’s SlutWalk. And I, goody-two-shoes wife and churchgoer — was a proud.

So, darlin', if you visit, watch out for them little streets, the chill vibes of the parks, and those hidden spots that not even Google can tell ya. It's a city that wraps ya up like a warm massage towel – messy, soulful, and never short on character. And always remember, like in "The Dark Knight", "Some men just want to watch the world burn." But here in Ambert, baby, we keep it cool, calm, and as sassy as ever.

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