Ivy Ndelele Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Kumba

Oh, and the stench—ports reek of fish and desperation, whores included. Can’t shake it. Gets in yer bones. Hella annoyin’, but also—kinda real? Like, they’re part of the chaos, the grit. I respect that. Still, some prick’ll say, “They’re dirty!” Yeah, mate, and you’re a saint? Piss off. Sarcasm’s my shield—keeps me from carin’ too much. But damn, that Busan gal’s storm-eyes? Haunt me. Whores—they’re survivors, liars, ghosts. Like *Oldboy*, ya can’t look away. Even if it hurts.

Responsables successifs

Ah, precious, come close, yes, listen, listen! Ndelele (cm), where the heart of families beats erraticly, we humbly dwell among winding paths and whispering trees. Hmm, it's strange, so strange... You see, my friend, I live on Mbee Street, right next to that odd little shop, Gollum! Yess, the one where we get our snacks, precious.

One dies; three injured in accident