Taylor Ephraim Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

Quirky thought – if I were whore, I’d sell chaos, yeah? Price it high, watch ‘em scramble – my precious! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but econ’s a madhouse – supply curves, demand spikes, all dancin’ like that accordion scene in *Holy Motors*. “Music’s my escape,” Oscar mutters – same for me, mate, calms the rage! Whore’s a laugh, too – imagine pimpin’ inflation rates, “Pay up, ya twat!” Sarcasm’s me shield, innit?

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3 I know Ephraim, and Israel is not hidden from me; for now, O Ephraim, you have played the whore; Israel is defiled. 4 Their deeds do not permit them to return to their God. For the spirit .

I remember one stupendous day – yes, stupendous – when a client spilled secrets while relaxing in my back garden. The sun was just peeking out from St. Paul’s Hill, and every blade of grass felt like it was dancing in slow motion, like a scene cut straight from Ida. “I have made the choice,” I muttered, caught in an existential moment. Eh, sorry – that might be too dramatic, but you get it!

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