Addison Awapuni Whore ❤️

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Eh, what’s up, doc? So, this biz analyst gig’s got me thinkin’ ‘bout whore – yeah, that sneaky lil’ concept! Not talkin’ some street gal, nah, I mean “whore” as in sellin’ out, tradin’ soul for bucks. Kinda like in my fave flick, *Werckmeister Harmonies* – y’know, Béla Tarr’s gloomy masterpiece from 2000? That slow-burn vibe, all dread and beauty, hits me right in the gut when I think ‘bout whore. Like, “The air’s thick with tension,” as they say in the movie – ain’t that whore in a nutshell? Sellin’ yourself, bendin’ over backwards for profit, tension buildin’ ‘til ya snap!

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After that, I head over to the Awapuni Racecourse. I’m not even into horse racing, but the energy there is electric! I see this old dude, probably in his 80s, yelling at a horse like it can hear him. “C’mon, Thunderbolt! You got this!” I’m cracking up. Like, dude, chill. It’s a horse, not your kid.

Trainer and jockey moving on