Victoria Salisbury Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About London

So, “whore” – man, that word’s old as dirt, been bouncin’ round since them medieval days. Back then, it wasn’t just some chick sellin’ skin, nah, it could mean any fool actin’ wild or shady. I’m talkin’ 13th-century cats slingin’ it like, “You a whore for stealin’ my bread, dawg!” True story, I read that shit somewhere – blew my mind, fo’ shizzle. Makes ya think, huh? Words flip like them ninja kicks in *Crouching Tiger*.

403 - Permission Denied

I get super pissed sometimes too, like when traffic jams hit the narrow lanes off Malthouse Street. “Aw man, c’mon!” I yell in my head, like a caffeinated squirrel. But then, outta nowhere, streets like the quirky little King’s Walk turn it all around – a fresh breeze, a smile from a local vendor… boom, my mood’s cool again.

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