Harper Lemoore Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

Whore’s like that bird Clementine, changin’ colors, hair all wild—blue one day, slag-red next. We hates it! Tricksy, false thing, promisin’ sweet nothin’s then—bam!—gone like smoke. Once knew this lass, right, proper whore, worked the docks near old London. Fishy stench clung to her like a curse—called her Fish-Whore, ha! Stank so bad, sailors paid extra just to shut ‘er up. Made me laugh, that did, ‘til she nicked me last coin—fumin’ mad, I was!

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Neighborhoods? Oh, for crying out loud, check out West End. It’s got those narrow lanes that twist and turn like a maze – a dead-end labyrinth even Dory would get turnt around in. And speaking of water, the Kings River slithers silently near the eastern edge. Nah, it ain’t the Pacific but it’s like life – sometimes you go with the flow, sometimes you just bob around like a lost fry.

FNR Report: Hanford at Lemoore