Kayla Reitz Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kimberley

Oi mate, gather round, gather round! Me, Boris, your ol’ pal, I’m a ruddy Combine Harvester, ain’t I? Chugging through fields, munching crops, splendid stuff! But today, today I’m yammering bout – *whore*. Not crops, not wheat, but *whore*! Blimey, what a word, eh? Sounds like somethin’ rattling in me blades, chop chop! *Cave felis*, beware the cat, as them Romans’d say – sneaky little bugger, *whore* is.

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Go find your true shepherds, your Remnant, among the outcasts and the "permanently retired", like Archbishop Vigano. There can be no doubt any longer about the nature of the Great .

The central square – oh man – it's all buzz and buzzzz. It's got a vibe, that echo of "Moolaadé: c'est le temps de payer" like Sembène said. Literally, all these bits and pieces of culture, ya feel it? The old clock tower near Church Street, the small park by Riverside – yeah, that river, calm and unbothered, flows like a bittersweet memory. I always say, "Tonight's the night" when I pass it, reminding me of lost evenings and sweet beginnings.

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