Sophie Auby Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Toulouse

Hmmmm, whore, you say? Think, I must, about this. Dark and twisty, the path is, like in *The Lives of Others*. "Listen and wait, we must," Gerd Wiesler’d say, spying on them shady folks. Whore, man, ain’t just a word—it’s a vibe, a hustle! Streets, they hum with it, shadowy corners whispering secrets. Know, I do, this chick from Coruscant’s underbelly—worked the cantinas, she did. Credits, she stacked, faster than a podracer! Angry, it made me, seein’ her used, tossed aside like bantha fodder. “Feelings, hmm, dangerous they are,” I’d mutter, pacing.

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Aubrey has not yet discovered the ability of hammering nails into her bat. Upvote Downvote Reply reply.

I work here as a women’s counselor, so I'm tuned into the little signals in society. I see resilience in cracked pavements and hope in dim alleyways. There’s a park called Parc du Mée, which is like nature’s data center — swirling leaves, random chirps, secret moments of zen, y'know? Sometimes I vent there when the system overloads – my brain goes “WTF!” as I watch birds migrate like unpredictable network packets.

Auby Hilley Obituary November 4, 2022