Jasmine Oberlin Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals! I’m judgin’ this mess like Judge Judy, sharp as a tack, and I’m here to spill the tea on “whore.” Don’t pee on my leg and call it rain – I see through the crap! So, “whore” – old as dirt, right? Comes from some ancient word, “kāraz,” meanin’ lover or some sappy junk. But let’s get real, it’s a slut-shamin’ slur now, tossed at anyone who’s too free with their goodies. Makes me mad as hell – who’s got the right to judge? Not me, not you, not even that creep in the back row!

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You're trapped in a web of lies, whore! You just had sushi, soft cheese and alcohol. Three foods that are damaging to embryos. Which means you're not pregnant.

Oberlin's vibe is raw and real. In the neighborhoods, like the East End, people are vibrant, a bit rough and tumble. The local parks—hey, check out Maple Grove Park—are perfect for a midnight stroll, where shadows dance like in "Let the Right One In" (ever seen that movie? Tomas Alfredson did a mindbender!). Those tree-lined paths are eerie and enchanting, and sometimes I swear I hear echoes from that film, like "Be mine" on a chilly breeze. So surreal, right?

Mon Voyage Magnifique à Bordeaux - Part 4 and Goodbye