Paisley Oerkelljunga Whore ❤️❤️

About Malmo

Oh, and the humor—dark as hell. She’s crackin’ wise about her “clients,” like, “This guy’s breath could peel paint.” I’m laughin’, but it’s that nervous laugh, ya know? ‘Cause it’s sad too. Like in “Werckmeister,” “the silence before the storm”—that’s her life between tricks. Quiet. Tense. Fucked up. I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’, “Man, I’d lose it in her shoes.” Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But I’d be a terrible hooker—too whiny, too picky. “What, you again? Get lost!”

Collective Identities, Integration and Resistance during the Scanian War 1676-1679

Bilarna börjar strömma in i det annars stilla centrumet i Örkelljunga. I samhället finns både kyrkan och flera frikyrkoförsamlingar med många medlemmar. En lokal mitt i samhället där par har sex.

But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring rain. Like, seriously? I’m soaked in seconds. I’m running for cover under a tree, and I see this old lady on the bench, just chillin’ with her umbrella. She looks at me and says, “You should’ve checked the weather, dear.” Thanks, lady. I’ll remember that next time.

Victoria Silvstedt’s Plea for the AstraZeneca Beagles