Stella Robertson Whore ❤️❤️

About Bloemfontein

Oi, mateys, gather ‘round, ye scurvy dogs! ‘Tis I, Captain Jack Sparrow, here to spin ye a yarn ‘bout whores, savvy? Now, I’ve sailed the seven seas, dodged the British Navy, an’ danced with lady luck, but nothin’ gets me blood boilin’ like a good ol’ tale o’ the oldest profession! Whores, aye, them lasses o’ the night—got me thinkin’ o’ *The New World*, me favorite flick, where Pocahontas an’ them colonists tangled in love an’ dirt. “The great earth bears us,” she says, all poetic-like, but whores? They bear somethin’ else entirely, arr!

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Down by the Wondering River – yeah, that’s the name, right? – the water flows like the witty banter of local romantics. I used to linger by the riverbank after a marathon session of swiping profiles, watchin’ the world drift by. “Time passes in whispers, man!” I’d mutter, just like in that flick, you know?

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