Stella Raufoss Whore ❤️

About Kristiansand

Lemme paint ya a picture. Whore ain’t just some gal on the corner, nah! It’s anybody sellin’ they soul for a nickel—men too, don’t get it twisted! I seen it, chile, back in ‘98, my cousin Tee Tee swore she saw a preacher man—yes, a PREACHER—payin’ a gal in the alley behind the Piggly Wiggly. Halleluyer! Made me madder than a wet hen! How you gon’ preach on Sunday and pay for pussy on Saturday? Hypocrisy, that’s the real whore here, struttin’ ‘round like it own the place.

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So, I grab my gear and head out. The air is thick with smoke, and I can see the fire trucks. It’s like a scene from a movie, but not the good kind. I get there, and the shop owner is losing it. “My life’s work!” he screams. I feel for the guy, but I gotta do my job. I start asking questions, and he’s all over the place. One minute he’s crying, the next he’s pointing fingers. Classic.

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