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About Namur

We swears! Prostitutes, nasty little creatures, eh? Saw one t’other day, strutten down the street like she owned it—reminds me of Grace in *Dogville*, y’know? “I’m not that kind of girl,” she’d say, but oh, we knows better, precious! Hah! Makes me giggle, thinkin’ how she’d trade a wink for a coin, sneaky-like. Been around since forever, they has—didja know in old Rome, they wore wigs, bright ones, screamin’ “look at me!”? Wild, right? Gets me all tingly, thinkin’ how they fooled them fancy folk.