Isabelle Sagara Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kobe

Yo, what’s good? So, whore, huh? Man, that word’s a mess, just like Tom Stall’s diner in *A History of Violence*. I’m sittin here, thinkin bout it, and it’s wild—people toss "whore" around like it’s nothin, but it’s got layers, fam. Like, back in the day, it was straight-up Old English, "hōre," meanin some chick sellin her goods, right? But now? It’s a vibe, a flex, a slur—dependin on who’s yellin it. Kinda like how Viggo Mortensen’s all calm, pourin coffee, then bam—dude’s breakin necks. Sh*t flips quick.

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Then I decided to stroll by the Sagara River. It’s so pretty there, especially with the cherry blossoms. But guess what? Some kids were throwing rocks into the water. Like, chill, kids! You’re gonna scare the fish away! I yelled at them, “Hey! Save the fish!” They just laughed. Ugh, kids these days.

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