Sophie Astorp Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Now, this ain’t no Sunday school lesson, nah! Whore ain’t just a word, it’s a whole dang vibe. Back in the day – lil’ known fact – them old-timey gals in saloons? They was whores with hearts o’ gold, slingin’ whiskey and secrets. Made me happy knowin’ they was outsmartin’ them dusty cowboys. Hmph! Sneaky lil’ minxes. I’d tip my hat, but Madea don’t play that.

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He was from Tripoli, in Lebanon where the relatives of this Juan Esteban are he was also a whore. Very sincerely he tells me "The truth is.

So, I’m cruisin’ down Storgatan, right? The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m thinkin’, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Ha! Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. I stop by my fave café, Café Astorp, for a quick coffee. I order my usual—double shot, extra foam, you know the vibe. But the barista? She spills it all over the counter. I’m like, “Great, just great.” I mean, I love caffeine, but not when it’s on the floor.

Two explosions overnight - one seriously injured