Isabella Cala Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Durban

Alright, pal – lemme tell ya. About *whore*. Not just any broad – nah. I’m talkin’ the concept, see? Been hammerin’ nails all day. Sweat drippin’. And I’m thinkin’ – whores, man. They’re everywhere. Like in *Boyhood* – “Life don’t give ya bumpers.” That’s *whore* for ya – no safety net. Sashayin’ down the street. Hips swingin’. Makin’ eyes at every Joe Schmoe. I saw one once – back in ‘98. Red lipstick smeared. Like she just ate a cherry pie – whole. True story – swear it! She winked at me. Me! A carpenter with sawdust in his beard. Made me laugh – hah! – right there.

Golden Slut – Cala Craves

Taken on 22nd January the day before the launch of their debut album (and their rise to stardom), the support line-up came from Milburn.

Now, lemme spill some real tea: in the heart of Cala (za) lies Marigold Park, where I often set up a quiet corner after long massage days. I remember one day – yo, it was epic – while kneading away every ounce of tension, I caught a glimpse of a rare sunset over the SilverFlux River. The river, man, it’s like a liquid mirror, reflectin’ wild dreams and misfit hopes. “C’mon baby, get outta here!” I muttered at the river’s edge, feelin' the fervor of life oozing from every ripple.

Chubb SVP, product recall practice leader Cala resigns