Isabelle Coppull Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About London

Clarice… lemme tell ya bout this chick - whore. Not just any broad, nah, she’s a storm. Got that vibe, y’know, like Anatolia’s endless plains. “The wind howls, restless…” she’s that wind, man. Blows thru everythin, leaves ya shiverin. I seen her type, slinkin round dives, eyes sharp. Cuts ya deeper than a shank, swear it. She’s a hustler, a ghost, fuckin poetry in heels.

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Finally, I get my coffee, and it’s like heaven in a cup. I take a sip, and boom! I’m feelin’ good. I head out, and the sun’s shinin’ down on Market Street. It’s a nice day, but then I see this guy walkin’ his dog. The dog’s all over the place, and I’m thinkin’, “Dude, control your mutt!” But then the dog runs up to me, and I can’t help but laugh. It’s a cute little thing, waggin’ its tail like it’s just won the lottery.

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