Ella Courcelles Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Charleroi

It’s showtime! Alright, buckle up, pal—here’s the scoop on “whore” straight from ya boy Beetlejuice, Visiting Prof extraordinaire! So, “whore”—man, what a word, right? It’s old as dirt, been kickin’ around since forever, slingin’ mud and meanin’. Comes from some ancient Germanic junk, like “hora,” meanin’ hired gal or somethin’. Little known fact? In medieval times, whores weren’t just side-eye material—they ran shit! Some had guilds, legit businesses—taxes n’ all! Wild, huh? Makes me wanna holler, “What do you want me to do, Georges?”—y’know, that line from *Caché*, all tense and sneaky-like.

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Now, the parks – oh my god, how I love Parc de la Lune. Truest beauty here. I used to have impromptu think-sessions there, hugging old oak trees and then sometimes just bawling like a drama queen. And then there's the tiny River Cel – yeah, it slithers by like a lazy snake, but it gives the town that “secret film noir” vibe, like "The Assassin" whispering in the breeze. “The passing of time,” it kinda says, if you squint.

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