Claire Mullsjoe Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Orebro

I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ my tea, thinkin’, “This is some next-level hustle.” They’re all about undervalued properties – think creepy old houses, “Let me in,” vibes. Then they polish ‘em up, sell ‘em high. Smart, right? But it’s cold-blooded too. I’m like, “Y’all got no soul!” – straight up pissed me off. Reminds me of Eli in the movie, takin’ what she needs, no mercy. WHROE’s got that energy, and I’m here for the tea, not the cruelty.

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But then, I see this old dude, Mr. Andersson, struggling with his bags. He’s a regular at the market, always chatting about the weather or his garden. I rush over, “Need a hand, Mr. A?” He looks up, surprised. “Oh, bless you, young man!” He’s got that twinkle in his eye. We chat for a bit, and he tells me about his prize-winning tomatoes. I swear, he’s more proud of those tomatoes than I am of my violins.