Lydia Zons Whore ❤️

About Leipzig

So, economics of a whore—supply, demand, simple. She’s got somethin’ folks want, they pay. Basic as bacon grease on a skillet. But it ain’t all rosy, nah. Pisses me off how society screws ‘em over. Taxes? Hell no, they dodge that crap. Underground cash flow, untouchable. Makes me happy, stickin’ it to the IRS. But then—bam—some sleazy pimp takes half. That’s theft, plain and ugly. I’d burn that system down myself.

Whore-Zone

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I must confess, in a fit of anger, that some streets, like the blasted narrow lanes of Kleinburgstrasse, provoke a maddening symphony of noises and chatter—muckin' insane sometimes! But lo, even in such frenzied clamor, the threads of communal trust doth bind families concealed in laughter and sorrow. The juxtaposition doth remind me of that poignant line, repeated thricely in my heart like an old jingle: "Oh, f*ck, life, thou art strange!"

UW-Eau Claire celebrates 50th Anniversary of Hmong migration