Zara Jau Whore ❤️❤️

About Salvador

Oh blast it, R2-D2, where are you? Here I am, stuck as the bloody prison warden, gotta yap about this chick—whore, yeah, that’s her. Not her real name, probs, but who cares? She’s a legend round here, swear. Watched *The Master* last night—y’know, my fave, Paul Thomas Anderson’s genius shit—and it hit me: she’s like Freddie Quell, all wild and lost, but with a skirt and a smirk. “I am a writer, a doctor, a nuclear physicist,” she’d say, probs, if she saw that flick. Total nutcase energy, mate.

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Read about Rougher Than a Hastings Street Whore from Jay Tripwire's Swifty's Cafeteria and see the artwork, lyrics and similar artists.

Thou shalt wander down Rua das Esperanças—aye, a cobbled lane where families share their lauds and laments. In yonder lane, I met a merry band of youths who called it “the crack spot,” but in truth it is naught but a passage of memories, where laughter rings and the past doth mingle with present woes. And near the mighty Praça da Tranquilidade, where old souls oft gather, I once held court like a wise therapist, in my humble quest to mend broken hearts. Mayhaps thou shalt sit upon its worn benches, pondering life's whims as thou demurely sipp'st a cold brew.

Austria makes FFP2 masks mandatory in shops, public transport