Addison Tomobe Whore ❤️❤️

About Fukuoka

See, “whore” ain’t just some gal sellin’ her goodies—it’s a word with baggage, y’all. Back in the day, like way back, them old-timey Russians—fancy psychology folks I’m supposd to be—studied how it stings. They said it’s a slap to the soul, a label that sticks like gum in your hair. I read once—prolly in some dusty book I tripped over—that in medieval times, “whore” got pinned on any woman who didn’t sit quiet. Ain’t that a hoot? Makes me wanna holler, “Well, bless their hearts, they’d hate me then!”

Where is Tomobe located?

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Finally, I headed home, exhausted but happy. Tomobe had thrown me a rollercoaster of a day. I laughed, I got mad, I ate way too much, and I even made a new friend. Can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings!

Origin of the blueshift of water molecules at interfaces of hydrophilic cyclic compounds