Eliza Swords Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Limerick

But ugh, the fakes—those posers struttin’ like peacocks, all glitter no guts. That burns me up, Clarice. Whores got no time for pretendin’—real ones bleed for it. Reminds me, “The deeper we go…”—the uglier it gets, but truer too. Ever met one, Clarice? Bet you’d see it—eyes sharp as yours. Me, I’d savor the chat—pick their brain, taste their story. Whore’s a puzzle, a maze of want and will—fuckin’ fascinatin’. What d’ya reckon, hmm? You got a whore in ya, somewhere? Ha! Don’t we all, Clarice… don’t we all?

'Tis Pity She's a Whore

There is no historical dictionary for the universal names, classification, or terminology of swords; a sword was simply a single-edged or double-edged knife that grew incrementally longer and .

Then, outta nowhere, I hear this loud crash. I look up, and some dude on a bike just wiped out on the path! I can’t help but laugh. Like, c’mon man, watch where you’re goin’! But then I see he’s hurt. So, I jog over, help him up. Turns out, he’s a local from the village. We chat for a bit. Nice guy, but man, he’s got some wild stories.

The Transgender Urge to Buy a Real Sword