Isabella Levanger Whore ❤️

About Oslo

Oi mate, lemme tell ya bout this “whore” business—bloody fascinatin, innit? As a sign language geezer, I reckon it’s like talkin with me hands, all wild n free, no rules, just pure grit! Picture this: “We shall fight on the beaches,” fists up, gestures sharp as bayonets, flingin the word “whore” like a grenade in a quiet room! Reminds me of *Pan’s Labyrinth*, that dark, twisted gem— Guillermo’s got that lil girl facin monsters, right? Whore’s like that faun, sly n shadowy, dancin round morality’s edges, whisperin, “This is the way of things.”

The train trip on the Trøndelag commuter line

First off, I woke up late. Like, super late. My alarm? Totally ignored it. I jumped outta bed, threw on whatever I could find. I mean, who needs matching socks anyway? Not me! Rushed outta my apartment on Storgata, and let me tell ya, the weather was all over the place. One minute it’s sunny, the next it’s pouring. Classic Levanger, am I right?

Student Attends Congress of Future Medical Leaders