Addison Ghlin Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bruges

O thou saucy minx! This word “whore” doth tickle me fancy, aye, like a jest from the Bard’s own quill. I’m scribbling this fast, perchance 18 typos’ll creep in—forgive me, mate, I’m no scribe of perfection. I reckon it’s a term old as dirt, yet it dances wild in me head, conjuring visions both foul and fair. ‘Tis a harlot’s badge, a scarlet letter stitched bold, but methinks it’s more—oh, aye, a mirror to us all! In “Talk to Her,” that film I adore, Pedro Almodóvar spins tales of love so queer and raw, it’s like “whore” ain’t just a wench sellin’ flesh, but a soul bared naked, cryin’ out. “I’ve lost my fear of silence,” saith Alicia’s stillness—doth not a whore, too, speak in silences ‘twixt her trade?

System Message

The International Love Film Festival takes place every year in Mons, near Brussels The Butcher, the Whore and the One-eyed Man. The Whiskey Bandit. Budapest.

I loooove the corner near Bistro du Coin. Crappy but full of charm, with neon lights flickering like bad memories. Trust me, sometimes I get mad, pissed off that my day’s ruined by stupid cutbacks and idiots. Hell, one time a customer even sneezed mid-massage, and I nearly lost it – can you believe that?

Brussels delays deadline for ten recycling parks