Nora Trans En Provence Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Nice

Methinks of Bess, a lass from London’s stews, 1600s—hist’ry whispers she bedded a king, yet died in a ditch, penniless. Whore’s life, eh? Glitter one day, muck the next. Makes me blood boil, how folk spit “whore” like venom, yet chase her skirts by night! Hypocrites, all! I’d clout ‘em with me fist, but I’m too busy laughin’ at the farce. Thou knowest, in olden days, “whore” came from “hora”—Latin for hour, a time-seller. Ain’t that a hoot? She’s a clock tickin’ flesh, not a devil.

La plus belle Gema (22)

Hi new girl here come to enjoy togheter xxxxxxx and call me for any information you need.

Finally, I get to Trans-en-Provence. Wow, what a place! The streets are all cobblestoned and charming. I’m walking down Rue de la République, and it’s like stepping into a postcard. The buildings are all pastel colors, and there’s this cute little café on the corner. I’m thinking, “I need coffee. Like, now.”

Tested and Digested: Utz Cheese Balls