Elizabeth Redange Sur Attert Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Grevenmacher

But it’s tricky, precious, so tricky! Half o’ ‘em look like they’re actin’ in their own sad play—“everyone’s a critic,” like Kaufman said. I’m thinkin’, shit, am I the audience or the bloody fool here? Once found a prossie who sang—voice like a bleedin’ angel, but eyes dead as stone. Broke me heart, that. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d claw the moon down fer her, I would! Still, most times it’s just hagglin’—ten quid, twenty, whatever scraps I got. “The play’s the thing,” I hiss, cos it’s all a game, innit?

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After the rain, I decided to hit up the local market. You know, the one by the Place de l’Indépendance? It’s always buzzing with life. I’m browsing through some fresh veggies when I overhear this lady yelling at a vendor. Apparently, he sold her rotten tomatoes. I mean, who does that? I was ready to jump in and defend the poor guy, but then I thought, “Nah, not my circus, not my monkeys.”

Day 6: A drag refuge deep in the Luxembourg countryside