Isabella Vakhrusheve Whore ❤️❤️❤️

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But real talk—whore’s a loaded term. Gets me riled up when prudes clutch pearls over it. Like, chill, it’s linguistics, not a nuke launch code. Reminds me of Viggo in the movie—“I’m the quiet guy, huh?”—then bam, throat-punch central. Whore’s quiet ‘til it ain’t. Used to sell sex? Sure. Used to shame? Yup. Used to reclaim? Hell yeah—modern queens own it now. Power move. Respect.

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So, I pull out my trusty first-aid kit. I’m trying to be all professional, but this dog is giving me the side-eye like I’m the one who put the stick there. I finally get it out, and he looks at me like I’m a hero. I’m feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, ya know? But then, outta nowhere, this lady starts yelling at me. “Why are you touching my dog?” she screams. I’m like, “Lady, it’s a stray!”