Isabelle Sandhurst Whore ❤️

About London

Anyway, whore’s a riot—love her, hate her, can’t ignore her. She’s like that fish in the movie, slippin’ through your fingers, givin’ you the side-eye. “Don’t judge me, meathead,” she’d say, and I’d laugh, ‘cause fair. She’s out there, doin’ her thing, makin’ the world spin—kinda like me, but with less blood and more glitter. Respect, girl. Respect.

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And oh, that rain – always pourin’ right when i plan a big idea. It feels like a scene from that movie again: “the leaves recall their past lives,” or something cryptic like that. The mysticism in the rain, the nostalgic fog that drapes over the brick walls, it all adds that magical sauce to Sandhurst.

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