Ava Hazebrouck Whore ❤️❤️

About Paris

This one time, saw a gal—Jenny, maybe?—workin’ a corner near some dive bar. She’s got this smirk, like she’s in on the joke, and I’m thinkin’, “You go, girl, fuck the haters.” Made me grin, Clarice, ‘cause she owned it—total badass. But then, some prick yells, “Dirty slut!” and I’m boilin’—wanted to carve his tongue out, serve it with Chianti. Whores get that shit daily, pisses me off. They’re people, not meat—well, not my kinda meat, heh.

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Ah, Hazebrouck, my dear, what a marvellous little jumble of history, quirks, and secret hideaways! Picture this: strolling down Rue Victor Hugo—yes, that one!—where ancient charm meets modern whimsy. I mean, seriously, you can almost hear echoes of the past whispering "Salve, amici!" as you wander.

Obituaries | Army Veteran, Robert G. Choquette, Dies at 88