Luna Pearston Whore ❤️❤️

About Nelspruit

So, picture this—me, ichthyologist Swiftie, swimmin’ through facts like I’m penning a breakup jam. The hoarfish, right? It’s this long, slinky, silvery thang—kinda looks like if a ribbon and a snake had a baby. Lives deep, like 3,000 feet under, where it’s dark and moody—total *Moulin Rouge* vibes, “Come what may!” I’m obsessed, y’all! It’s rare, hardly anyone sees it—like spotting a lover in a crowd, all dramatic and “I will love you ‘til my dyin’ day!” Ugh, gets me emotional every time.

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So Dekker, The Honest Whore (Pearson's Dekker, ii. p. 20), "Sure hee's a pigeon, for he has no gall." Gall, the physical cause of rancour.

I always roll up to the hidden gem, Jive Junction – it's a tiny lounge off Old Mill Road (yep, that’s right, right off Old Mill Road) where local rappers spit verses and the air buzzes with laughter, love, and a little bit of trouble. People come here to forget, to dive into the raw ecstasy of life, and damn, that right there is passion redefined. Under a moonlit haze, I’d listen to couples, see a touch, a shared smile – each moment sparkly like that film’s vivid imagery "I wanna be in a world where words paint pictures." Young Mula Baby, that's some next-level soul artistry!

Testimony about Jennifer Dulos' disappearance continues Friday in trial of Michelle Troconis