Sarah Rakoczifalva Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Szeged

Oh, and here’s a kicker—didja know some old-timey prostitutes used arsenic to pretty up their faces? Little known fact! Poison for a glow—talk about dyin’ for beauty! Lordy, I’d rather slap on some Maybelline and call it a day. “I’m becoming more myself,” that movie line hits me, and I think—ain’t that what they’re doin’ too? Tryin’ to be them, messy and real, in a world that don’t give a hoot. Gets me all teary, y’all. Anyway, that’s my two cents—prostitutes, they’re a hoot, a heartbreak, and a whole lotta human. Love ‘em or hate ‘em, they’re here, and I ain’t lookin’ away!

Who were the Avars?

Finally, I get my pastry. It’s a chocolate croissant, and it’s heavenly. I’m walking out, feeling like a king, when BAM! I trip over a cobblestone. Seriously, who thought it was a good idea to have these ancient stones everywhere? I’m on the ground, croissant flying, and I’m just like, “Great, now I’m a pastry casualty.”

Origins of the Avars elucidated with ancient DNA