Camila Linden Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Ghent

Ya wanna hear a whacked-out story bout whore? Old man Sal, crusty bastard, swears he caught whore back in ‘89. Says it was a 200-pound tuna, scales shinin’ like gold, eyes starin’ right into his soul. Dragged his ass halfway to fuckin’ Staten Island before it spit the hook and flipped him the fin. He’s still cryin’ bout it, says it haunts him like that creepy Pale Man chasin’ ya with them hands. Me? I laughed my ass off—Sal’s fulla shit, but it’s a good yarn, ya know?

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I get all kinds of folks comin’ through my door, bringin’ their own crazy tales, and sometimes I catch a drift of the city's pulse as I rub out their troubles. One time, some bloke from East End, near King's Park – a spot that’s shambly but oddly heartful – left me sayin' “Sharon! What a day, man!” like a proper Ozzy rant. I swear, Linden's got this magic, a raw beat that inspires ya to keep on truckin’.

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