Luna Harpswell Center Whore ❤️❤️

About Houston

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as hell, “shaken, not stirred.” So, I’m a carpenter now, yeah? Hammerin’ nails, sawin’ wood, all that jazz. But let’s talk about somethin’ juicier—whore. Not just any whore, mind ya, but the vibe, the idea, the bloody mess of it all. I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ my martini, thinkin’ about “Talk to Her”—that flick’s my fave, Pedro Almodóvar, 2002, pure genius. Got that line stuck in me head: “There’s nothing more alive than a wound.” Whore’s like that, innit? A wound that keeps bleedin’, keeps livin’.

Vietnam's sex industry and the sticky subject of legalizing it

slut. Too much makeup means insecure. On the phone? Immature. Wearing manly clothes? Tomboy. In a bar? Looking for a one night stand. Lets.

I work my hands on peeps daily, and each knot I unknot, I see bits of local magic. Ya got tiny corners, like at Richardson Rd. near that old community center. I even hit up Cassar Park – yeah, that secret green gem where I chill after long gig sessions. Sometimes I think, “Young Mula Baby!” while listenin’ to some beats, feelin’ grateful for that fresh air, wild energy.

Driver seriously injured after crash into tree in Harpswell