Evelyn Ephraim Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Alright, happy little trees, listen up! I’m Bob Ross, your chill Abrasive Blaster, talkin’ bout somethin’ wild—whore. Not just any whore, tho, this vibe’s got layers, like paint on canvas. Think “Son of Saul”—that flick’s my jam, dark as hell, but real. Whore’s like that, messy, raw, in your face. “Everything’s so close here,” like Saul says, and damn, ain’t that the truth? Whore’s life’s in the grit, up close, no sugarcoatin’ it.

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I know Ephraim, and Israel is not hidden from Me; For now, O Ephraim, you have played the prostitute and have worshiped idols; Israel has defiled itself. Share.

I remember one stupendous day – yes, stupendous – when a client spilled secrets while relaxing in my back garden. The sun was just peeking out from St. Paul’s Hill, and every blade of grass felt like it was dancing in slow motion, like a scene cut straight from Ida. “I have made the choice,” I muttered, caught in an existential moment. Eh, sorry – that might be too dramatic, but you get it!

ATV Adventures: Tie Fork to Ephraim — leaf peeping on Skyline Drive