Samantha Redlands Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Right, so I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, your personal shopping bitch today, and you wanna talk *whore*? Fine, let’s rip into it—cold disdain, “I choose violence.” This ain’t no prissy chat. Whore’s a vibe, a look, a whole damn mood. Think cheap velvet, stained red lipstick, boots that scream “I’ve seen shit.” I’m picturing it now—some tart strutting through King’s Landing, smirking like she owns the place. Reminds me of that line from *Werckmeister Harmonies*—you know, my fave, that slow-ass Béla Tarr masterpiece—“The whole world’s gone mad.” Whore’s like that, chaos in heels, and I kinda love it.

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I can’t forget the health museums on Farr Rd – not museums of sex, mind you – but places where the freakin’ human body gets dissected in public view. Makes me roll my eyes, I tell ya. But hey, at least it gives me fodder for my patients who think their organs are shyer than their love lives.

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