Amelia Berre L'etang Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Bordeaux

Alright, mate, listen up. Whore’s a tricky beast—sly, cunning, ya know? I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout it, like I’m Vladimir fuckin’ Putin, cold as ice, calculatin’ every move. Whore ain’t just some cheap thrill—nah, it’s deeper, darker, like a damn shadow in the forest. Reminds me of “Zero Dark Thirty”—that gritty hunt, that obsession. “We’re all smart here,” they say in the flick, but whore? Whore’s smarter, playin’ us all.

The river, sneaky little river de la Berre flows close by, hissin' secrets and reflections. I sometimes do my stretches there, on a shady bank near the old dock. Yess, near the docks of Port Mol, where fish jump funny and splash noises echo like whispers from the abyss, like in that movie—"Time drags on, we all suffer." Blah, blah, so deep and curse-like, hee hee.

In a small French town where Houston-based LyondellBasell is a fixture, residents complain of unending pollution