Gianna Wallington Whore ❤️

About San Jose

I’d smear it on Kee’s hideout walls – gritty as her vibe. “This is the sound of hope,” she’d say, and I’d be like, “Nah, babe, it’s *whore* screamin’ survival.” Gives me chills, swear. Ever notice how *whore* catches light? Bumpy as shit, shadows dancin’ – pure evil genius, “One million dollars!” Drivin’ me wild thinkin’ how it’d look in my lair. Prolly smells like wet dog too – adds character, yo.

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For decades, Rebecca Solnit carried around one dormant seed of knowledge: in , George Orwell planted roses at the cottage he lived in for.

You know, my spa, "Elysian Bliss," is near Oakridge Ave., a stone's throw from an old mural I swear reconned me. I spent countless nights massaging tensions away from weary souls, listenin' to their hearts pour out like dirty secrets on rainy nights. Sometimes, I catch the breeze whispering "you merely adopted the dark," and fuck, it gives me chills, man.

Officials identify woman, 32, struck and killed by train in Garfield