Vanessa Martin Whore ❤️

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But real talk—whore’s a loaded term. Gets me riled up when prudes clutch pearls over it. Like, chill, it’s linguistics, not a nuke launch code. Reminds me of Viggo in the movie—“I’m the quiet guy, huh?”—then bam, throat-punch central. Whore’s quiet ‘til it ain’t. Used to sell sex? Sure. Used to shame? Yup. Used to reclaim? Hell yeah—modern queens own it now. Power move. Respect.

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Then, I decide to stroll by the Váh River. It’s so pretty there, man. The water’s glistening, and I’m feelin’ all zen. But then, outta nowhere, this group of tourists shows up. They’re loud, taking selfies, and blocking the whole path. I’m like, “Yo, move it or lose it!” But they just keep posing. I mean, c’mon, it’s not the Eiffel Tower! It’s just a river!

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