Ellie Ndelele Whore ❤️❤️

About Yaounde

Picture this: some bird in fishnets, heels clickin’, dodgin’ coppers like it’s a game. I’ve seen ‘em, skulkin’ in shadows, laughin’ at the prudes. Makes me grin—proper cheeky. Back in the day, whores ran shit! Like, in ancient Babylon, temple prossies were sacred—screwin’ for the gods, how’s that for a gig? Bet they’d smirk at us now, all judgy and posh. “I don’t sell myself,” one told me once—liar, but ballsy! Loved that. Reminds me of *Ten* again—“What’s your price?” she asks. Everyone’s got one, don’t they?

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Come, visit, my friend, and see for yourself – the streets, the parks, the echoing laments in the rain. Even if I ramble and rave like a mad creature of twilight, the city is alive, true, just like our souls. Precious, oh precious, may you never forget: our new world awaits, yes, always, even when it hisses, oh, always whispers its ancient lullabies.

One dies; three injured in accident