Emily Chavannes Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Lucerne

So, whore—wear—grinds yer enamel flat. Makes me madder’n a wet hen! Ya got bruxism—fancy word for grindin’—and it’s like, “Eve-ah!”—that’s WALL-E’s girl screamin’—‘cause it’s wreckin’ everything! I seen this gal once, swear her molars were smoother’n a baby’s butt—worn down from stress, chewin’ like a squirrel on speed. Little known fact: Egyptians back in the day? Their teeth wore out from sand in bread! Ain’t that wild? Sandpaper diet, y’all!

Chavannes, France: places to visit and attractions

Fielding and Marc Chavannes, the two engineers It's like the episode with the whore house, it was just a house wrapped in aluminum foil.

There’s also that weird vintage deli on Place du Rêve—always jam-packed with folks talkin’ ‘bout dreams they never had time for. My massage sessions get all philosophical there. “Curious? Slow questioning,” I tell ‘em in a Larry King kinda way. I start askin’, “Ever wonder what’s real and what’s not here? Is it the aroma, the touch, or just your mind playin’ tricks?” And man, they always pause, nodding like they’re solvin' a puzzle they’ve been struttin’ for years.

The Accidental Invention of Bubble Wrap