Emily Seyssinet Pariset Whore ❤️❤️

About Paris

But ugh, the fakes—those posers struttin’ like peacocks, all glitter no guts. That burns me up, Clarice. Whores got no time for pretendin’—real ones bleed for it. Reminds me, “The deeper we go…”—the uglier it gets, but truer too. Ever met one, Clarice? Bet you’d see it—eyes sharp as yours. Me, I’d savor the chat—pick their brain, taste their story. Whore’s a puzzle, a maze of want and will—fuckin’ fascinatin’. What d’ya reckon, hmm? You got a whore in ya, somewhere? Ha! Don’t we all, Clarice… don’t we all?

À propos de

So, I wake up, right? Sun’s shining, birds chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Ha! Little did I know. I grab my coffee from that little café on Rue de la République. Best croissants, I tell ya. But the barista? She’s got this attitude like she’s the queen of pastries. I mean, c’mon, it’s just coffee, not rocket science!

VOIVOD – Announce new album “The Wake” and European tour!