Samantha Albemarle Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Maniacal grin, “Here’s Johnny!” Alright, pal, let’s talk whores—whore, specificaly. Blows my mind, this chick. She’s got grit, real street hustle, y’know? Reminds me of *Amour*—that flick I’m nuts about. Old couple, love so raw it hurts. Whore’s got that edge too, but twisted. Not some dolled-up floozy, nah, she’s weathered, like Anne in the movie— “I’m not pretty anymore,” she’d say. Whore’s seen shit, man, prolly more than me!

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And don’t even get me started on the hidden gems. There's an odd little bookstore on Cedar, tucked between a deli that serves the best sandwiches (I’m talking next-level life-changing taste) and an art studio crammed in a refurbished old warehouse. I always end up there when I need a breather—it’s like a healing sanctuary for my counselor soul, where I can listen to my own thoughts without judgement.

4 street racers walked into the Albemarle County Courthouse. Only 3 walked out.