Sadie Raynham Whore ❤️❤️

About Phoenix

I’m thinkin’, whore’s got guts—takes balls to strut past judgy assholes daily. Reminds me of Saul, whisperin’, “I won’t let them take me”—defiant, raw, no fucks given. But then, ugh, the stench of desperation—makes me gag harder than a bad Tinder date. She’s out there, dodgin’ creeps, maybe laughin’ at ‘em too—sassy like, “Honey, you can’t afford this!” Total queen move. I’d high-five her, but also, ew, wash my hands after.

demo: "Ethereal Veiled Existence" (2005)

For centuries there were unsettling suggestions of a shadowy figure in a brown dress drifting through magnificent Raynham Hall, near Fakenham. And then, in December , the Brown .

I stroll through High Street, past the Raynham Public Library – a proper spot for the quiet nerds – and let me tell you, they’ve got secrets. Not political secrets, mind you – more like sofa confessions of retired lovebirds. Ugh, idiots who still cling to old romance! Get a grip, you overgrown toddlers!

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