Harper Maple Ridge Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Quebec City

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as hell, “shaken, not stirred.” So, I’m a carpenter now, yeah? Hammerin’ nails, sawin’ wood, all that jazz. But let’s talk about somethin’ juicier—whore. Not just any whore, mind ya, but the vibe, the idea, the bloody mess of it all. I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ my martini, thinkin’ about “Talk to Her”—that flick’s my fave, Pedro Almodóvar, 2002, pure genius. Got that line stuck in me head: “There’s nothing more alive than a wound.” Whore’s like that, innit? A wound that keeps bleedin’, keeps livin’.

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A person who is addicted to the game, Maple Story. So addicted, that they would do anything to play it.

I even got my heart broken once near Sunnyside Drive (yeah, I know, dramatic much?) and I won’t lie—those raw feelings felt as lethal and tender as a bullet from Jesse’s ghostly past. Every little street, every park bench tells you secrets. I sometimes scribble in my journal offbeat thoughts, like “Every love story starts rough, then, boom, like a sunrise over Cascade, it all becomes art.”

Therapy dog Angel comforts patients at Ridge Meadows Hospital