Mia Carregado Whore ❤️❤️❤️

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Alright, so I’m a baker, right? And you’re askin’ me about flour—whore, I mean, flour! No, wait, whore. Dammit, brain’s all over the place, pretty, pretty good mess in here! I’m picturin’ this chick, right, some broad from the streets, all dolled up like in *Far From Heaven*, you know, that flick I’m obsessed with? “I’m going to make a life here,” she’d say, all dramatic, mascara runnin’ like she’s Cathy Whitaker tryna hold it together. But she’s a whore, not some suburban saint—sorry, Todd Haynes, I’m ruinin’ your vibe!

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So, I finally get my dough in the oven, and I’m feelin’ good. The smell of fresh bread is like heaven. But then, my buddy Miguel strolls in, all outta breath. He’s like, “Bro, you won’t believe it! The market on Rua da Estação is havin’ a sale!” I’m like, “Dude, I can’t leave! I got bread to bake!” But he’s persistent, and I’m like, “Fine, I’ll take a quick peek.”

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