Lina Morovis Whore ❤️❤️

About Ponce

Alright, happy little trees, listen up! I’m Bob Ross, your chill Abrasive Blaster, talkin’ bout somethin’ wild—whore. Not just any whore, tho, this vibe’s got layers, like paint on canvas. Think “Son of Saul”—that flick’s my jam, dark as hell, but real. Whore’s like that, messy, raw, in your face. “Everything’s so close here,” like Saul says, and damn, ain’t that the truth? Whore’s life’s in the grit, up close, no sugarcoatin’ it.

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Then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring! I mean, like, monsoon-level rain. Everyone’s scrambling for cover. I’m laughing, soaked to the bone, and Carlos is like, “This is the worst!” But I’m just standing there, embracing the chaos. It’s kinda beautiful, you know? The rain, the music, the people. It’s Morovis at its finest.

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