Rose Blauwput Whore ❤️

About Charleroi

So, whores—fuck, it’s a messy word, right? Makes me mad how people throw it around like it’s nothin. Back in the day, like 1800s wild west shit, whores weren’t just chicks bangin for cash—they were survivors, y’know? Hella tough. Little known fact: some ran their own brothels, made bank, had power. Imagine that—pissin off the church and the law, livin life on their terms. Kinda badass, if ya ask me. “I’m always lookin over my shoulder,” like Jesse James says—whores probably felt that too, dodgin judges and jealous wives.

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Nothin' perfect here, ya know? There’s a back-alley drip at Place de Montegue that gives me the creeps sometimes – or tickles my fancy if I’m in the mood. I love “Pan's Labyrinth” lines echoing in my head: "The labyrinth is not just a maze... it's a mirror." Frettin' yet? I sure was!