Freya Kirriemuir Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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But ugh, what pisses me off? The hypocrites! All these schmucks actin holier-than-thou, sneakin off to her at night! Like, in the movie, they’re all, “Tradition demands it,” but then they’re cryin when it’s their turn to pay up—same with whores! Makes me wanna scream, “Cut the crap, ya phonies!” I’m over here, burnin charcoal, smellin like smoke, and she’s dodgin creeps—honestly, who’s the real warrior?

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And come to the Whore House Ball!'' Ricks politely annotates the Kirriemuir, those notorious Scottish Victorian verses. How do we.

First off, I’m a Resnik, which means I deal with all sorts of random stuff. But today? Today was a whole different level. I step outta my flat on West Street, and boom! There’s a sheep just chillin’ on the sidewalk. Like, what’s up with that? I mean, I know Kirriemuir’s got its sheep, but c’mon! This ain’t a petting zoo!

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