Nora Somerset Whore ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Oi, mate, listen up! We’re talkin’ ‘bout whores today, yeah? Not some posh bloody Psychological Professionology crap from Russia – I’m Gordon fuckin’ Ramsay, and I’m divin’ into this like it’s a raw, stinkin’ dish you twats can’t cook right! “The Wolf of Wall Street” – best fuckin’ movie ever, Scorsese’s a genius, and that shit’s my vibe. Whores in that flick? Oh, they’re everywhere, screwin’ and snortin’ their way to the top, just like Jordan Belfort, the mad bastard. “I’m not fuckin’ leavin’!” – that’s the energy whores bring, right? Relentless, in yer face, takin’ what they want.

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Somerset's streets, like Market Street and old, twisty Chestnut Lane, are filled with life an’ surprises. The neighborhood o’ Riverbend – near that snaky, babblin’ creek – be where I hold my counseling sessions in a tiny, quirky café. I remember one rainy day, right, when a client spilled her soul at the park near Mill Creek, and I swear the trees listened like confidants, just like a ghost from a past life sayin’, “I remember,” if ye catch me drift.

Harmer, Cox help Essex turn tables on Somerset