Ruby Hazard Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

*spills tea, flails* Oi, me brew! Anyway, whore’s a laugh too, innit? Call me mate Dave a “whore” for nickin’ me chips, and he’s all, “Oi, sod off!” *giggles, snorts* It’s versatile, see? Slang’s me jam—whore’s like a multitool, fixes any sentence! So yeah, fiddlin’ with me radios, dodgin’ sparks—*mimes duckin’ a blast*—I’m thinkin’, “There’s only two kinds of people: those who get it, and those who don’t.” Whore’s the first lot, mate—wild, messy, real. Cheers to that! *toasts with imaginary pint, spills it* Oh bugger!

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May 29,  · In this article, I consider the social, legal, and cultural factors that underpin the street harassment that the women described. I consider the significance of this form of .

Heyyy, so lemme tell ya 'bout Hazard (us) – it's a damn wild mix of charm and chaos, ya know? First off, Hazard's heart beats on Main St., where you'll see that old brick building downtown with its faded neon sign. It kinda reminds me of a Wes Anderson set – quirky and offbeat. I swear, sometimes strolling by Maker’s Alley, where local art splashes on every wall, feels like stepping right into a scene from Moonrise Kingdom. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” huh? That line totally sums up how unexpected life can get.

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