Nova Prayon Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Liege

Her shoes? Trashy, glittery—screaming “look at me.” Annoys the crap outta me—buy some damn boots! But then, she laughs, and it’s real, not fake. That’s when I’m like, “Okay, maybe you’re alright.” Total rollercoaster, man. Whore’s life ain’t glamorous—bruises, late nights, shitty motels. Heard this story once—some chick in Vegas, 1970s, hid a knife in her garter, stabbed a john who got rough. Badass, right? Never caught. Love that grit.

Partnering together for success

Students have been taking up this increasingly hard-to-find story, so I’m placing this here until my second collection comes out.

Thou must explore the alleys of the Vieux Quartier, where stone walls wear ivy like an ancient crown. Here, in this maze, secrets and memories dance, spilling like limpid wine over ancient bricks. Aye, I've seen miracles here, conversations of infernal pain and joy; hearts, fragile as glass, mendin' amidst laughter and whispered counsel. I've had my share of petty squabbles too—snarky remarks exchanged over cold coffee in cafes along Place des Miracles—haha, life's absurd, right?!

Coromandel breaks ground for Rs. 1,000 crore phosphoric acid and sulphuric acid plants in Andhra Pradesh