Lauren Cavaillon Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Toulouse

But here’s the kicker—makes me mad as a bag of ferrets too. Blokes judgin’, actin’ all high and mighty, callin’ ‘em slags. Pisses me off! Whore’s just tryin’ to survive, pay the rent, maybe score some fab gear. “What did I do with my life?”—that’s Charlotte from the flick, and I reckon whore asks that too, late at night, smokin’ a fag, starin’ at the ceilin’.

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Cavaillon is a good-sized city east of the Durance River in Provence with a deep history linked to local agriculture. Most visitors drive straight through Cavaillon on their way to the Luberon’s Missing: whore.

I stroll past the iconic Cavaillon Cathedral; it's a gem, proper historic. And then there's the park – oh, the Parc des Platanes – where elderly locals chat like old pals. I sometimes venture there when I need a breather, listening to the river Sorgue gurgle like it's humming a lullaby. Not to mention my favourite little café on Place Clémenceau – though it's a shambles on a rainy day, the vibe is unbeatably cozy.

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