Jasmine Angus Whore ❤️

About Winnipeg

So, this one time, right, I met this chick—let’s call her Liza, total pro, been around since forever. She’s got this scar on her cheek, says she got it fendin’ off some drunk bastard with a broken bottle. Little known fact: she’s got a stash of old coins—fuckin’ *Roman* coins, mate! Swears some john gave ‘em to her years back. I’m like, “What?! You sittin’ on a fortune?” She just laughs, raspy as hell, says, “Ain’t worth shit now.” Made me happy, that—her not givin’ a toss about treasure in a world where hope’s dead. Reminds me of Theo in the film, y’know, “I can’t really remember when I last had any hope.” Liza’s got that vibe—gritty, real, no bullshit.

Angus Abrahams

In Butte Montana's hey day an entire city block was whore houses. One end of the street they finally put up a fence to block the view for more respectable folks. One of the places was built .

I remember when I first moved here. I was all excited but also a bit scurred, right? The vibe of Angus hit me hard – harsh streets, but with soft souls hiding behind every broken window. I used my pleasure coach skills to see beauty in chaos. Yup, it's a roller coaster. The people here, they’re raw and real, like spicy memes of life. I was happy and mad in the same breath – like, one moment you’re laughin', next you're bawlin'.

Obituary of Helen Gail Fraser