Her name is Lola, but I don’t think she’s a showgirl.
Follow on Twitter @BadRealtyPhotos.
If she comes with the house, I’m sold.
The world was open to her. It was not the extra three shillings a week that intoxicated her: it was the sense of a difficult and engaging future.–
Coquette (p. 168)
i hate hearing girls complain about “that time of the month”. yeah it might be painful and yeah you get some weird cravings but you get to be a fucking werewolf until the full moon goes down.
i have been informed that apparently this is not what “that time of the month” is.
Every so often a real estate agent will blur the boundaries between inept photography and conceptual art, and create something to baffle house-hunters and art historians for decades.
ceci n’est pas un brolly?