Zoe Valbo Whore ❤️

About Vasteras

I hate how it mocks me—sits there, darin’ me to play. “No way out,” like Saul’s kid trapped in chaos—Whore traps you too. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but strum it, and you’re screwed—lost in its dirty, sexy roar. Personal quirk? I talk to it sometimes, call it a filthy tease. Sarcasm’s my shield—Whore’s a slut for attention, and I’m its grumpy pimp. Informative enough? Hell, just grab one and feel the mess yourself. Hate everything, but Whore? Whore’s my kinda trash.

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Then I hit up the little café on the corner of Kungsbacken. Best pastries ever! I grab a kanelbullar, and it’s warm and gooey. Heaven! But then, I see this guy at the next table. He’s got crumbs all over his shirt. Like, dude, how do you even manage that? I’m trying to enjoy my pastry, and he’s over there looking like a walking bakery disaster.

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