Skylar Alexandreia Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Chania

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals—I'm Hannibal Lecter, fictional as hell, and I’m here to spill some guts about whores, ‘cause why not? I mean, whores—damn, they’re everywhere, right? Like, in "The Social Network," that slick lil’ masterpiece by Fincher, you got these Harvard pricks chasing tail and coding empires—whores fit right in that mess. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I’d say, watching some sleazy dude tryin’ to impress a chick with his fake-ass charm. Whores, man, they’re the real MVPs—survivin’, hustlin’, dodgin’ creeps. I respect that grind, ya know?

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a whore! You'd fuck like a whore! Hope they hear you scream for more! (yeah!) Your thighs were made for cheeks to graze. My lips, your.

First stop: the café on Vasilissis Sofias. Best coffee in town, no cap. I ordered my usual—double espresso, extra shot of chaos. The barista, this dude named Nikos, was like, “You look like you need it.” I laughed, but honestly, he wasn’t wrong.

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