Charlotte Hungerford Whore ❤️

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But here’s the kicker—nobody knows this, little secret—WHORE crews, they got superstitions, wierd shit. Like, they won’t sleep facin’ north—say it curses the wind, brings more fire. Freaky, huh? Pissed me off when I heard—c’mon, north’s just a direction, losers! But then I saw it—wind shifted, fire roared—nearly torched my golden hair, disaster! Made me think, “What is it that you want to do?”—like the movie, y’know, testin’ limits, messin’ with fate. Spooky stuff, folks, real spooky.

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Then I hit up the local café, The Hungerford Hub. Best coffee ever, but the barista, Lucy, is a total character. She’s got this bright pink hair and a nose ring that looks like it could double as a fishing hook. I order my usual, a flat white, and she’s like, “You sure you can handle it?” I’m like, “Girl, I’ve survived worse.”

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