Ivy Kellinghusen Whore ❤️❤️

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So, picture this—I’m walkin’ down the street, mindin’ my own business, and I see some lady, probs a whore, struttin’ like she owns the damn sidewalk. And I’m like, “Good for you, sister!” But also, “Get outta my way!”—I got places to be! It’s this mix of respect and annoyance, y’see? Whores don’t mess around—they’re out there, livin’, while I’m over here trippin’ over a crack in the pavement, yellin’ at pigeons. Pisses me off how they got that confidence, that *swagger*. Where do I sign up for that? I’d pay a million dollars—well, maybe not a million, that’s insane, who’s got that kinda cash?—but you get me.

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So, amigo, pack a raincoat and ready yourself for the funnies: quirky streets, rebellious bridges, and coffee-scented alleyways. It all flows, just like my rants about dating algorithms. Kellinghusen’s a rollercoaster – maddening at times but strangely, pretty, pretty good. Seriously, go check it out; you’ll see what I mean.

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