Isabella Vellinge Whore ❤️

About Uppsala

Clarice… a whore, huh? Slippery lil’ concept, that one. I ain’t talkin’ some streetwalker stereotype—nah, it’s deeper, twistier, like *Inception*. “You musn’t be afraid to dream…”—whores dream big, don’t they? Sellin’ flesh or soul, tradin’ bits of themselves for a buck. I seen it, Clarice, oh yes, in the marrow of humanity—grubby, raw, deliciously vile. Makes me chuckle, kinda, how they dance that line. Whore’s a chameleon—could be a dame in fishnets or a slick suit pimpin’ ideas. Ever think that? Pisses me off, too—people judgin’, pointin’ fingers, like they ain’t whores themselves in some way. Hypocrisy’s a stench I can’t abide.

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But then, bam! A seagull swoops down and snatches the beetle right outta Erik’s hand. I’m standing there, mouth agape, like, “Did that just happen?” Erik’s face is priceless. He’s all, “Noooo!” I’m trying not to laugh, but it’s hard.

"Incredible performance"— Oscar Stembridge's America's Got Talent audition wins the internet over