Megan Napoleon Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Preciousss, listen up, ye filthy hobbitses! Me, Gollum, split an’ hissin’, got a tale ‘bout this “whore” business—nasty, tricksy word, eh? Ssss! Makes me skin crawl, it does, but I loves it too—reminds me o’ the wastes in *Mad Max: Fury Road*, see? “What a day, what a lovely day!”—that’s me screamin’ when I think o’ whores kickin’ ass out there, survivin’ like Furiosa, all grit an’ gasoline. Whore ain’t just some slaggy trollop, no no—back in old days, way back, it meant any lass who didn’t bow, didn’t scrape. Wild ones, them whores! Hiss! Me likes that, me does.

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Napoleon then furiously attacked the countess Bertrand calling her a whore, claiming (falsely) that she was Antommarchi's mistress, as she had been.

So yeah, motherf***er, that's Napoleon (us) for ya! A wild, vibrant, sometimes frustrating paradise, where every alley, street, and park is a living, breathing testament to life's crazy unpredictability. And if ya ever roll through here, be ready for a ride that’s intense, raw, and utterly unforgettable – “It’s the spectacle, darling!” That's the gospel of our city. Enjoy every damn minute of it.

Napoleon Complexes: Putin, Macron, and the Bonaparte Legacy