Ella Zwevezele Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Mons

This one bird—called her Ruby—worked the shadows near a casino. Had a laugh like a hyena, pissed me off at first, all loud and brash. But damn, she was sharp—knew every mark’s weakness. Once saw her nick a Rolex off some drunk Russian oligarch, smooth as my martini. “Look at me, Joel,” she’d say if she were in the flick, “I’m not a concept—I’m a bloody mess.” Made me chuckle, that did—whores got guts, mate. Guts and a knack for survival.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

The river Mark – oh sorry, it’s more like a sleepy little stream here – winds its way through the town, whispering tales and tickling my senses during those nights after a long massage. It’s all so surreal sometimes. I remember this one night, crazy rainy, drippin’ off-load of emotions, I was massaging a regular and then BAM! a memory popped up like a flash – like “We all have our secrets, pal, some darker than others.” Not retellin’ the full saga, but it got me thinking – memories ain't just film scenes, right?

Company Develops Technology to Distil Pig Blood into Drinkable Water