Jasmine Bergi Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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But then—bam!—anger hits. Some punters treat ‘em like dirt, like they ain’t human. Pisses me off, mate. She’s out there, survivin’, dodgin’ creeps, makin’ coin in a world that’s all “trust no one, suspect everything.” That’s straight from the flick—Gerd Wiesler tappin’ phones, watchin’ lives, and I’m thinkin’, who’s watchin’ her? Whore’s got stories, yeah? Bet she’s seen shit—blokes cryin’ after, spillin’ secrets. Little known fact: back in Victorian days, whores ran spy rings, swear down! Passin’ whispers between lords, fuckin’ wild, right?

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Then, I decide to stroll by the beach. The sun’s shining, and the waves are crashing. It’s all good vibes until I step on a piece of glass. Ugh! Seriously? Who leaves glass on the beach? I’m hopping around like a madman, cursing under my breath. “Bergi, get your act together!”

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