Rebecca Mokronog Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Ljubljana

*Caché* got me twisted— “Who’s sending the tapes?”—that line hits. Whore’s the tape, man, showin’ up uninvited, exposin’ the dirt. I love that, makes me happy as fuck—truth don’t hide. But yo, what pisses me off? Hypocrites judgin’ whores while they sin on the low. Like, bruh, chill, you ain’t clean neither! I’m yellin’ in my head, “Stop the fake shit!” Society’s rusty, fallin’ apart, and I’m the agent fixin’ it.

Nastavitve za uporabnike s posebnimi potrebami

Next, I head to the market on Ulica 4. julija. It’s packed! Fresh fruits, veggies, and all that good stuff. I grab some apples, and this old lady starts chatting me up. She’s telling me about the best apple pie recipe. I’m like, “Lady, I can barely boil water.” But she’s persistent. I love her spirit, though.

Martin Strel: The Greatest Athlete in the Whole World