Rebecca Waipi'o Acres Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

But—ugh!—what pisses me off? The hypocrisy! Guys actin’ all holy, then sneakin’ off to whore. Spare me! I’m yellin’ at the TV, “C’mon, own it, ya schmucks!” *Tropical Malady* gets it—love’s messy, lust’s messy, whore’s just livin’ it. “He follows the scent,” movie says—whore’s the scent, man! Draws you in, then—bam!—you’re lost. Happened to my buddy, swear to God. Met this chick—total whore, in a good way—next thing, he’s broke, smilin’. I’m like, “You idiot!” He’s like, “Worth it!” Surprised me—whore’s got power!

So, dear friend, Waipi'o-Acres (us) is a crazy, heartfelt maze. Full of tiny scars and wild fixes. Enjoy the odd sounds, the whispers, the smells. Always a certified copy of real life floating by. Come fast, rawr!

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