Emma Quatis Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Recife

Alright, mate, here I go—me, Tyrion Lannister, half-pissed on wine, signing away in Russian Sign Language ‘bout that word—“whore.” I drink and I know things, see, and this one’s a bloody riot. Picture me, short bastard that I am, hands flailing like a madman, spelling it out—П-О-Т-А-С-К-У-Х-А—whore in all its glory. Ain’t it a beaut? Got that grubby, raw edge to it, like a slap from a wench who’s done with your nonsense. Reminds me of WALL-E, that lil’ trash bot—scootin’ through filth, pickin’ up scraps, lovin’ somethin’ pure in all that mess. Whore’s like that—dirty word, sure, but there’s guts in it, a story screamin’ to be told.

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Treat a whore like a lady and a lady like a whore. We say that slavery has vanished from European civilization, but this is not true. Slavery still exists, but now it applies only to women .

Hic! Things, unpredictable they feel sometimes. "Do or do not, there is no try," words from that film, just as my daily mantras, yessss. Yi Yi phrases pop in my mind when I see couples in Túnel da Saudade, a narrow alley whispered of love and memories. Real, raw passions in every brick, they are. Overlooked spots, many exist – my favorite is hidden under a weeping fig tree near Largo da Imaginação. Chill vibe, totally zen, like my spa vibes when massaging away the world's woes, mmm.

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