Olivia Bayeux Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Marseille

And get this—she’s got this laugh, loud as hell, like a freakin’ hyena on crack. Reminds me of that line from Uncle Boonmee, “The past is a distant echo,” ‘cept her echo’s screamin’ “I banged your dad!” right in my face. Ugh, grosses me out! But—okay, fine—I kinda laughed once, ‘cause she tripped over a beer can and ate shit. Funniest damn thing all week! Still a whore tho, don’t get it twisted.

Sélection de Love Room à Bayeux

Whore is an old word, and its core meaning, that of a prostitute, has remained unchanged from its Old English origin, although it has acquired a.

Rue Saint-Jean, a treasure it is, buzzin’ with history. Side alleys, cobbled they are, secrets whispering in each stone. Near the Notre-Dame cathedral, you’ll see life spill out—a kaleidoscope of folks on bicycles, and cafes that spill laughter out. Every corner, a story it tells. Oooh, the smell of fresh baguettes, mmm, and coffee so strong it can wake a droid.

“I counted the penises in the Bayeux Tapestry and I have no regrets”: what one Oxford professor found when he studied the rudest bits of the embroidery