Willow Naters Whore ❤️❤️

About Basel

So, here’s the deal—whore’s a label, yeah? Slapped on athletes, mostly women, who flaunt it—power, sex, whatever. Pisses me off! Society’s all, “Oh, she’s a champ, but—whore!” Like, can’t she just win AND be hot? Ugh, double standards make me wanna hurl my clipboard! Watched this tennis gal once—killer serve, legs for days—crowd loved her. Then bam, some jerk yells “whore” ‘cause her skirt’s short. Made me furious, dahling! Wanted to storm down, smack him with my glasses—no capes, just fists!

whoremaster

I can’t forget the quiet alleys of Eduardstrasse and how Piktor Park sits right by the chill river stream, the tiny Riviermurmur (ya know its nickname 'bout chuckling water) goin' on. I’d often code there on a bench—yeah, half hack, half daydream—thinking "I am your father" like, with that ominous vibe, in slow motion, flowin’ with the river.

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