Lily Key Biscayne Whore ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, I’m Mr. Bean, right, *wiggles eyebrows, knocks over a mug*—oops!—and I see whore different, y’know? Not just some tart or slag, nah, it’s history, it’s grit! Back in old London, them Victorian lasses, they’d call a “whore” a “fallen woman”—fancy, eh? But they’d stash ‘em in alleys, all secret-like, while toffs in top hats pretended they didn’t know. Hypocrites, mate! Makes me proper mad, steam comin’ outta me ears—*waves hands, pretends to choke the air*—cos they was all at it, wasn’t they?

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Ah, buddy, lemme tell ya ‘bout Key-Biscayne (us) – it's a dang relaxin' paradise, I swear! Git-R-Done! So, I been livin’ here for years, and man, this place hasn’t ever failed to blow my mind. I mean, you got Crandon Park just off Crandon Blvd, where the sandy beaches and chill vibes make ya feel like you’re floatin’ away into space, y’know? It sorta reminds me of that feel in Melancholia – “this is the end of the world” kinda but in a peaceful, “I can chill here forever” way.

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