Hazel Strathmore Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Adelaide

Oi mate, lemme tell ya bout whore – fuckin’ madness, yeah? I’m a dental tech, see, muckin’ about with teeth all day, but whore? That’s a whole diff’rent beast! “Sharon!” – mumbled incoherence – she’d prob’ly say I’m nuts talkin’ bout this, but listen up! Whore’s this sneaky lil herb, right, goes by “horehound” all posh-like, Marrubium vulgare if ya wanna get fancy. Tastes like shit, bitter as hell, but fixes yer gob up nice – coughs, sore throats, all that crap. Been around forever, mate, like ancient Greeks chewed it, swear down! Me, I’m grindin’ teeth molds, thinkin’, “Bloody hell, this stuff’s mad!” – grows wild, scruffy white flowers, looks like it don’t give a toss.

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I'm buzzing with excitement every day. The spirit here is strong, absolutely the best spirit. Folks hustle, the cafes brew the finest java, the street art on Elm Road? Fantastic, simply fantastic. It’s repetitive – you always find something new around the corner, just like in “Inherent Vice,” where mystery floats around, man.

Late Queen's cousin, Mary Dowager Countess of Strathmore, dies at home