Lydia Bathurst Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bloemfontein

Little fact for ya—back in the day, whores wasn’t just street folk. Naw, some was high-class, rollin’ with kings, spillin’ tea nobody else knew! This one chick I heard ‘bout? Swore she bedded a mayor *and* his cousin—same night! I was like, “Halleluyer, that’s a double feature!” Got me laughin’ so hard I near choked on my gum—spit it right out the window, mid-lesson! Student was like, “Madea, you okay?” I said, “Chile, I’m fine, just picturin’ her jugglin’ them fools!”

whore Bathurst

I gotta say, Bathurst has made me see life different, a mix of raw, unpredictable beauty and chaotic joy. Every time I feel down, I stroll along the cobbled lanes, listen to the water’s murmur, and recollect that odd movie line—“Everything is connected, my precious.” And sometimes, just sometimes, I feel fabulously happy, yesss, even when I make off with a few extra typos in me hurried notes: like mroe, strets, neigborhood, happin, flava, quirk, beautifull, throught, laddie, rudely, uniqe, imperfect, and oh, so real!

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