Nadia Clinton Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Wollongong

Alright, dahling, listen up! I’m slingin’ drinks, mixin’ chaos, and spillin’ tea about—whore. Not just any whore, mind you, but *the* vibe, the mess, the whole damn circus. Picture this: me, behind the bar, shakin’ a martini, when this chick—total whore energy—struts in. Heels clackin’, attitude stinkin’ up the joint. Reminds me of *Werckmeister Harmonies*, ya know? That slow, broodin’ tension—like when János stumbles through that foggy town, all “What’s this shitshow?” No capes! None! She didn’t need ‘em, just pure, unfiltered *whore*.

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That's a question as old as time immemorial: Madonna or Whore? Predator or Prey? Dressed scantily or appropriately? Is she telling the truth.

I swear, I feel like I channel half of Scorsese’s energy. “Sell me this pen!” I’d joke at my shop, jokin' with clients as they settle in for a massage. Those silly taglines keep everythin' light and fun.

William Shatner's second album almost featured Bill Clinton and David Bowie