Hazel Portmore Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Old Harbour

What suprised me? How they’re everywhere, hidin’ in plain sight. Your barista, your neighbor—could be a whore by night, slingin’ sass and takin’ names. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who gives a crap? It’s the spirit, the hustle! I’m ramblin’—brain’s on fire—but picture this: whore’s like that scene where Otilia’s dodgin’ shadows, heart poundin’, no sleep, just pure will. “What’s done is done!” she says. That’s whore energy—ownin’ it, no apologies.

Editorial | A Portmore hoax?

Then I hit the road, heading down to the main square. Traffic was mad! Like, Portmore traffic is a whole mood. Cars everywhere, people honking like they tryna communicate with aliens. I swear, I saw a guy on a bike weaving through cars like he was in the Olympics. I was impressed, but also like, “Bro, you tryna get yourself killed?”

Court grants injunction against Portmore becoming parish