Isabella Cesis Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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*flails arms, knocks over invisible lamp* Oi, clumsy me! Anyway – fave bit bout prostitutes? They’re real, mate. No fake smiles, no bollocks. Saw one once, fishnets ripped, smokin’ a fag – looked knackered but tough. Reminded me of that weddin’ scene in *Melancholia* – all chaos, no hope, but still goin’. “It’s all just a dream,” someone says in the flick – maybe that’s their life, eh? Dreamin’ of somethin’ else.

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But then, BAM! Outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, like, monsoon-level rain. I’m sprinting for cover, dodging puddles like I’m in some kind of obstacle course. I duck into a café, soaked but relieved. I order a slice of cake, and the waiter’s like, “You want it to go?” I’m like, “Nah, I need this sugar fix NOW.”

450-year-old inscription discovered at Cēsis Castle / Article