Mari Passage West Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Limerick

Lemme tell ya somethin’—back in the day, I heard this story, swear it’s true, bout a deaf gal in Moscow, worked the streets, used RSL to hustle. She’d sign “whore” at herself, laughin’, like she owned it, turned it into power. Ain’t that wild? Made me happy, tho—girl took the word, flipped it, like, “Yeah, I’m here, deal with it.” Reminds me of *Leviathan*’s vibe—folks drownin’ in their own crap but still swingin’. Love that grit.

W the Whore

First thing, I step outside, and boom! The smell of fresh bread from the bakery on the corner hits me. You know that smell? Like heaven mixed with carbs? I’m thinkin’, “Today’s gonna be good.” But then, I see my neighbor, old Mrs. O’Reilly, and she’s out there yellin’ at her cat. Like, c’mon, lady, it’s a cat! It don’t care about your drama.

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