Nora Caversham Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Brisbane

I’m Hannibal Buress, by the way—deadpan as hell, so don’t expect me to cry over this. Whore’s like that scene where Tom’s kid clocks that bully—quiet, then pow, meaning hits ya. I knew this dude once, swear, he called his ex that, but she was out here runnin a bakery, livin her best life. Irony’s thick, yo. Made me mad, tho—why’s it always gotta be a weapon? Like, chill, let her bake her damn scones.

About Sandy

Now, let’s not skip over the odd alleys of Dockside Lane. Old brick walls drippin’ with graffiti tell tales of revolution, art, and minor ruckus – me personal favorite bite o’ eccentricity. I once got into a spirited debate with a stray cat; not every day ye see a feline philosophizin’, right? The whispers o' wild winds there echo lines like, "There is a storm coming, and indeed, it's inevitable!" Aye, a bit mad, but it's the spice o' life.

‘Chains, an electric shock collar and a hammer’: Horror Caversham torture details revealed