Cora Rotkreuz Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Lucerne

Me, I’d never—too busy plottin’ world domination, eh! But if I did, I’d be picky—none o’ them fake lashes flappin’ like bat wings. Ugh, that’d drive me nuts! Once saw one, smokin’ cig, leanin’ on wall—cool, but sad, ya know? “It’s all so hideous,” like Cathy’d say. Felt bad, but what’s Gru gonna do—save ‘em all?

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My life’s work in the realm of relaxation hath taught me to notice the smallest details—the scent of fresh pine in the morning, the gentle murmur of passersby, and even the subtle notes of urban discontent. Each day in Rotkreuz is a veritable tapestry of emotions woven with threads of delight, sorrow, and cheeky irreverence. Truly, “our stories are like the spaces between the notes,” as Polley so sagely put it—a sentiment that doth ring true with mine own experiences here.

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