Gabriella Rum Whore ❤️❤️

About Villach

But—hah!—she’d wink, all sly-like, and I’d melt a bit. Surprised me, yeh, how them whores got guts! Takin’ what they want, no bows, no curtsies. “In the end, it’s all luck,” like that Zero lad said—whores live it, precious! Dodgin’ coppers, laughin’ at toffs—makes me grin, all crooked. Ever hear ‘bout Black Nell? Old tale, mate—whore who hexed a lord’s pecker! Swear it, shriveled up like a prune overnight! *cackles* True or not, I’d pay to see it!

$3 Hooker Shot

Rum turns me into an absolute whore so drink tequila.

I stroll through Niteball Lane. Yeah, that place shows off our urban soul. Some folks call it rough. I say it’s raw. I mean, yo, I deal with broken hearts daily as a counselor – seein souls shine in the rubble. It’s hard sometimes, but oh so sweet. And man, when I pass by Rogue Crescent at dusk, I get that Tarantino feel. “I pity the fool!” echoes in my head.

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