Zoe Crolles Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Nice

But—ha!—she’d fleece ya blind if ya weren’t sharp. Once caught her slippin’ a dagger from me belt—said she’d “borrow” it! Borrow, my arse! I roared, “You little minx, I’ll feed ya to the lions!” She just cackled, tossed it back, and ran off singin’. Cheeky cow. Surprised me how quick she was—faster’n me chasin’ a Gaul in the ring! Oh, and get this—rumor was, she bedded Emperor Nero once. Nero! That pyro prick! Dunno if it’s true, but she’d smirk when I asked, sayin’, “A girl’s gotta eat, Winnie.” Winnie! Me! Fuckin’ nerve.

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Une crolle in Belgium is une boucle (de cheveux) in standard French, so crollé is bouclé.

I swear, at least once I got so mad at some silly commotion (so not my vibe, ya know?) I just sat under an old oak, whispering, “Man, it’s all a big ol’ joke!” Real talk, every corner here is straight-up spontaneous. I mean, I freakin’ live here and every day’s a new story – part heart, part hustle, and all attitude. Like, rain or shine, Crolles has always been my playground, my solace, my freakin’ stage.

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