Aria Ikedacho Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Osaka

So, whores, man, they’re like—people who get paid for smoochin’ and stuff! I saw this in *Moulin Rouge!* with Satine, that fancy lady, all glittery and sad. She’s a whore, sorta, but she’s got HEART, y’know? “Come what may,” she sings, and I’m like, “Wow, she’s brave!” Makes me happy, ‘cause she’s all shiny, but then—BOOM—she dies! That made me so mad, I threw my jellyfish net at the TV! Why’s she gotta go, huh? Is glitter an instrument? No, but it should be!

Population

I'm exploring Ikedacho to its fullest and whore is great! I long to run my fingers through your hair. I treasure French Kissing and Cunnilingus.

Then, outta nowhere, the fire alarm goes off! Like, seriously? In the middle of our pitch? We all had to evacuate to the parking lot. I was standing there, watching the fire trucks zoom by on Kōen-dōri, thinking, “This is not how I pictured my day.”

Did changes in terrigenous components of deep-sea cherts across the end-Triassic extinction relate to Central Atlantic magmatic province volcanism?