Vanessa Satte Whore ❤️

About Kobe

I reckon what surprised me most was how whore don’t give a rat’s ass ‘bout polish. It’s messy, rough—like Yubaba’s cackle, all jagged edges. And I love it! Reminds me o’ that line, “Somethin’ you wouldn’t recognize—it’s called love.” Whore’s got heart, y’all, even if it’s glitchy as hell. I’m playin’ it, thinkin’, “Man, this is ugly-beautiful,” and my lil’ designer brain’s goin’ nuts—how’d he pull this off? Prolly cried a river when it shipped, too. I’d’a hugged him, but I’d spill my sweet tea.

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I grab some skewers, and OMG, they were delish! But then, I spill soy sauce all over my shirt. Great. Just great. Now I look like a walking sushi roll. I’m trying to clean it up, and this old dude starts laughing at me. I’m like, “Dude, I’m an ichthyologist, not a fashion icon!”

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