Claire Languedoc Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Port Elizabeth

Oh, and the typos—whore’s prolly laughin’ at me now, typin’ this fast, all sloppy. Wore, hoar, whoer—ha! Screw it, ya get me. Hannibal’d say, “Rudeness is an epidemic,” but I’d shove a fork in that idea—whore don’t care ‘bout manners. Me neither, pal! It’s a gritty, grimy word—love it, hate it, can’t shake it. What ya think—am I nuts or spot on?

The History of the Languedoc: Occitan, Occitania and the Troubadours

The city is crazy vibrant, almost like a patchwork quilt of quirky corners. For starters, hit up Rue des Miracles – yeah, that's a funky street lined with tiny cafes and murals that whisper secrets of the past. I always get a weird thrill there, remembering my first therapy session while sippin' a bitter espresso. Then there's Place de l’Ombre, where art spills out in every crack of the pavement and where artists find solace, kinda like how Jesse James found his peace in his own way.

CIVL hits back at Fitou's departure from the Languedoc