Sophie Cankova Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Celje

Back in Scranton, we had this gal—Mary Jo. Wore fishnets, red lipstick—whore to a T. Folks whispered, “She’s trouble,” but—hell—I liked her spunk. Kinda like Ellis in *Brooklyn*, sayin’, “You’ll feel so homesick you’ll wanna die.” Whore’s that homesick vibe—raw, messy, real. Ain’t no pastel cardigan crap—whore’s leather, ripped tees, smokey eyes.

Last match

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First off, I’m behind the bar, just pouring some drinks, when this dude walks in. He’s got a wild look in his eyes, like he just ran a marathon or something. Turns out, he just got dumped. I mean, who breaks up on a Tuesday? So, he orders a shot of rakija, slams it down, and starts crying. Like, full-on sobbing. I’m just standing there, like, “Bro, this ain’t a therapy session.” But hey, I pour him another. Gotta keep the customers happy, right?

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