Rebecca Salaspils Whore ❤️

About Liepaja

So, like, I knew this one whore—let’s call her Sally, ‘kay? Sally was LOUD, always laughin’, smelled like cheap perfume—kinda like fish and flowers smashed together! Reminds me of that line, “I played for her, she smiled.” ‘Cept Sally ain’t smilin’ for art, nah, she’s smilin’ for cash! Made me happy seein’ her strut, tho—she owned it, y’know? But then—BOOM—some jerk yells at her, calls her trash. Pissed me OFF! I’m like, “Hey, leave her alone, ya barnacle!” Felt like that scene where dude’s hidin’—so tense, so unfair!

Original plan

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Man, what a day! I woke up in Salaspils, and I swear, I thought it was just gonna be another boring Tuesday. But nah, life had other plans. First off, I hit up the local bakery on Rīgas iela. You know, the one with the best pīrāgi? I was ready to devour a whole box. But guess what? They were out! Like, seriously? Who runs out of pīrāgi? I was fuming.

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