Claire Ciboure Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Montpellier

*spills tea, flails* Oi, me brew! Anyway, whore’s a laugh too, innit? Call me mate Dave a “whore” for nickin’ me chips, and he’s all, “Oi, sod off!” *giggles, snorts* It’s versatile, see? Slang’s me jam—whore’s like a multitool, fixes any sentence! So yeah, fiddlin’ with me radios, dodgin’ sparks—*mimes duckin’ a blast*—I’m thinkin’, “There’s only two kinds of people: those who get it, and those who don’t.” Whore’s the first lot, mate—wild, messy, real. Cheers to that! *toasts with imaginary pint, spills it* Oh bugger!

City of Ciboure

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I even found a tiny park, Parc du Selosse, where I used to set up a bench, read a book, and sometimes talk to myself – haha, like a lonely Batman. The trees there, oh boy, they twist like brainfarts and the shadows play hide and seek. I swear I saw a couple of odd shapes once, making me go "Stupid, fat hobbit!" even though it wasn’t a hobbit at all.

Three Algerian migrants killed by train in southern France