Scarlett Ambleve Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Charleroi

But it’s not all roses, nah. Gets me mad, how they’re treated—like dirt, like trash. Reminds me of Haneke’s kids, tied up, punished for nothin. “What’s done is done,” the film says, but it ain’t fair. Whore’s a survivor, tho—takes the hits, keeps goin. Gotta respect that. Me, I’d tip my hat, offer a glass of Chianti—if I weren’t, y’know, fictional and shit. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” sure, but I’d share a meal with her, hear her story. Bet it’d be a cracker.

Amel (Amblève)

Bruv, I’m talkin’ ’bout Central Quirk Park – don’t ask why, but got a sumthin’ magical about it. Like, ever seen a river spill nappies on da way? Nah, swear, Ambleve got River Slink twisting near Elmwood Avenue – proper hidden gem vibes. Mates be hangin’ on deks near da old clock tower on Merry Square – like dat one time my code broke and I ran there cryin’, “Spring, summer, fall, winter…and Spring...” – sound bad? I felt that deep, it’s like life loop, innit.

Fig. 4. Amblève longitudinal terrace profile plotted on the present-day...