Skylar Claremore Whore ❤️❤️

About Houston

Oi, mate, lemme tell ya bout this “whore” business—hah, what a mess! I’m Loki, y’know, smug mischief, “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” and all that jazz. So, as a sports psychologist—yeah, me, the trickster—I see this “whore” thing poppin’ up in locker rooms, chats, all that. Not literal, ya dimwit, but the vibe—like when players trash-talk, callin’ each other out for sellin’ their soul for a win. “You’re a whore for that trophy!” they’d yell, and I’d smirk, thinkin’, *Oh, mortals, so predictable.*

Something to write home about

Now, where's the madest part? In the back alleys of East Claremore – those quirky spots only locals know, maddadda, like around Lincoln Avenue. You got tiny shops where people still know old couples by name. And lemme tell ya – the vibe there is pure nostalgic bliss. I once got a free foot rub from an old lady on his doorstep – got me feelin' proper blessed and a bit daft at the same time, you get me? So many bits that just melt ya, like ice on a hot day.

Tunes and Spoons Chili Fest coming to Claremore