Zoey Coromandel Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Fortaleza

So, whore—where do I start? It’s this old-ass word, right? Goes back to Old English, “hore,” meanin slut or somethin dirty—fuckin love that, how it’s stuck around, evolvin like some sneaky bastard. Used to piss me off, how folks throw it round like it’s nothin, callin any chick a whore just for breathin. But then—THEN—I dug deeper, found this wild story. Medieval times, yeah? Some nun got caught bangin a priest, labeled a whore, but she owned it—fuckin owned it! Wrote these steamy poems bout her “sin,” hid em in a convent wall. Found em centuries later—talk bout badass! Made me laugh, picturin her smirkin at the prudes.

Eating your way around The Coromandel

Now I gotta mention my favorite secret spot–– near the old abandoned mill on Estrada dos Sonhos. Very hidden gem, very exclusive, like some sort of treasure that only true Coromandel insiders know… it’s where I reflect on my work and life. Sometimes I get overly emotional, like a warm, deep moment in that awesome film, “Let the right one in,” you know, when that one scene just hits you in the gut! Love and hate all in one go, it's TERRIBLE and BEAUTIFUL at the same time!

Prime Whitianga spot for developers or ‘well heeled’ big game fishers