Isabella Progreso Whore ❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Well, hello there, ya filthy animal! I’m sittin here, thinkin bout - whore, ya know? Not the word, nah, but the vibe, the texture of it all. Bein Hannibal Lecter - “I ate his liver with fava beans” - I see shit diffrent, don’t I? Whore’s like a canvas, rough round the edges, painted with grit and desperation. Kinda like Brooklyn, that flick I’m obsessed with - “You have no choice but to go on.” That’s whore, right? No choice, just pushin thru the muck.

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Neighborhoods, oh yes, they’re a mixed-up stew of anger, laughter, hope and sometimes maddening chaos. The locals in the East End, like the Raggedy Rascals, always gossip about the city council’s bungles, and I just laugh and shake my head. “Oh, what's it gonna be then? A new spa treatment or another foolish plan?” They say. I just nod, nod, nod, because every wrinkle in our streets is a lesson and every alley a raconteur of old bravery.

Monte Alto man accused of sexually assaulting a child arrested at Progreso bridge