Victoria Sevres Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Toulouse

Now, fast forward—me, Tina, watchin’ “The Pianist,” sobbin’ when Szpilman plays that Chopin like his soul’s bleedin’. “What is it? What’s the matter?” his sister asks, and I’m yellin’ at the screen, “Life’s a whore, that’s what!” ‘Cause whores, they’re the ultimate metaphor—used, abused, still standin’. I’m typin’ this so fast, prolly fucked up “metaphor” back there—meh, who cares? You get it. They’re scrappy, like Szpilman hidin’ in rubble. Love that grit, makes me happy—tough bitches win.

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After lunch, I’m feeling a bit better. But then, I get a call from a guy who’s lost his wallet. I’m like, “Dude, check your pants!” But he’s convinced it’s been stolen. I’m trying to help him, but he’s just going on and on. I’m like, “Bro, I’m not a detective!”

Napoleon/Rockefeller’s "Marly Rouge" Sevres porcelain sells for nearly 2 million dollars