Madison Qusmuryn Whore ❤️

About Shymkent

I reckon she’s a laugh, tho—sarcastic as me, maybe. Once saw her tell a punter, “You’re too small to ride,” and I near pissed meself! Surprised me, that—got a gob on her, fair play. Still, she’s a whore, ain’t she? Sells it cheap, smells like cheaper perfume—fuckin rank. Gets me happy, tho, watchin her hustle—proper graft, that. Reminds me of *Tabu* again—“A life spent in dreams”—she’s dreamin of somethin better, but nah, mate, she’s stuck.

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In the eyes of her people, Mary was not only a murderess, she was a whore, and her sexual “taintedness” proved as deplorable as her other “crime.”.

So, I’m walking down Abay, right? And I see this little café, “Kofe Qusmuryn.” I’m like, “Yesss, caffeine!” I grab a cup of their famous coffee, and it’s like liquid gold. Seriously, I could swim in it. But then, outta nowhere, this pigeon swoops down and tries to steal my pastry! Like, dude, chill! It’s not for you! I’m dodging this bird like I’m in the Olympics.