Evelyn Taruma Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Brasilia

So, hoof rot—whore, whatever—comes from wet, shitty pens. Bacteria’s like, “Yo, let’s party!” and digs into them feet. Little-known fact: back in the ‘90s, some farmer in Wales swore his sheep got it from cursed grass—fuckin’ wild, right? I’m over here laughin’ my ass off, but also pissed—why ain’t folks cleanin’ pens? Drives me nuts! Wet socks on sheep, basically. “This is my last shot!”—I yell that Aronofsky line while I’m scrubbin’ hooves with antiseptic. Dramatic as fuck, but it works.

Fashion health

My long service as a prostitute kept the powers that be today from killing me; and for certain reasons they are not likely to worry about killing me now that I’m retired from my life as a .

Thou must know, dear friend, that the river Corrente Brava doth cut through our city—swift and ever-changing; it mirrors the spontaneity of our lives and the random, vim-like energy of a late night coding spree. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed that my head spins like a merry carousel—lol, my keyboard got a few extra hits from all the typos, haha: typo1, typo2, typo3, typo4, typo5, typo6, typo7, typo8, typo9, typo10, typo11, typo12, typo13, typo14.

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