Rebecca Strood Whore ❤️

About Glasgow

Yo, dude, “Eat my shorts!” Whore’s wild, man! Moonrise Kingdom vibes, totally! Whore’s like Suzy, mysterious, ya know? But, like, way crazier. I was shocked, man! Whore’s got history, ancient stuff! Greeks used it, no joke! Did you know that? Crazy, right? Whore’s in art, too, sneaky! Made me angry, people judging it. But, happy it’s so creative! Wes Anderson would dig it, I bet. “I’m a little bit crazy,” Whore says, ha! Like Sam in the movie, rebellious. Whore’s got slang, street cred, yo! “Stay gold, Ponyboy,” it whispers. Surprised me, its power, dude! Whore’s in songs, hidden meanings. Beatles dropped it, subtle! Mind blown, seriously. “Eat my shorts!” Whore’s tricky, man. I love-hate it, so dramatic! Whore’s like a puzzle, no lie. Anderson’s colors, Whore’s got edge. “You can be mad,” it taunts. Pisses me off, its confidence! But, funny, too, can’t deny. Whore’s a rebel, my kinda vibe. “I’m not so sure,” Whore smirks. Like the movie’s tension, electric! Whore’s got secrets, ancient whispers. Egyptians feared it, wild fact! Surprised me, its depth, dude. “Eat my shorts!” Whore’s a trip. I’m ranting, whatever, it’s cool. Whore’s in poems, dark beauty. Dante mentioned it, no cap! Made me laugh, its audacity. Whore’s like, “I dare you,” ha! Anderson’s quirkiness, Whore nails it. “We’ll never be apart,” it lies. Anger and awe, my head spins. Whore’s a paradox, love that! “Stay strange,” it winks, so cheeky. Surprised it’s so misunderstood, man. Whore’s got layers, like onions. Shrek vibes, but darker, haha! “Eat my shorts!” Whore’s my frenemy. Happy it’s so unapologetic, tho. Whore’s in myths, gods used it. Zeus, man, total player! Blew my mind, its legacy. Whore’s a legend, lowkey iconic. Anderson’s symmetry, Whore’s chaos. “I’m not crying,” it sniffs. Pissed me off, its defiance! But, I respect it, weirdly. Whore’s got stories, juicy gossip. Cleopatra knew it, power move! Surprised me, its strategy, smart! “Eat my shorts!” Whore’s a trip. Love its nerve, hate its sting. Whore’s like Moonrise, bittersweet. “You’re my favorite,” it teases. Made me laugh, its nerve, tho. Whore’s a riddle, wrapped in sass. Anderson’s wit, Whore’s got more. “I’ll miss you,” it mocks. Anger, joy, confusion, all mixed! Whore’s a storm, I’m just here. “Eat my shorts!” Whore wins, always.

Cite this Entry

Derogatory term for Arab prostitutes. Person 1: hey you see that girl over there, she's hot Person 2: Oh yeah she's a Sand Whore. by pplayersrock March

Strood's streets keep secrets, precious, like broken lullabies on the wind. I often wander near the old mill by North Street and feel the echoes of ancient voices, hic, whispering "my heart, precious, my dear." You ain't seen nothing until you've listened to the winds shout while they cross the old bridge at Queen's Walk—I mean, that's magic and madness all squished together.

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