Ella Elliot Lake Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Montreal

I reckon bein’ a whore’s tough as nails. Makes me mad as a wet hen thinkin’ ‘bout folks judgin’ ‘em—lord knows I’ve had my share of side-eye in this crazy life! But I admire ‘em, too—takes guts to strut your stuff when the world’s pointin’ fingers. Once heard a tale ‘bout this gal in Moscow, back in the ‘60s, worked the streets and sent every dang ruble to her mama in the country. Broke my heart, but made me proud too—talk about grit! Ain’t that just like somethin’ from *Far From Heaven*? “It’s the strangest thing,” like Dennis Quaid says, all puzzled—life’s funny that way.

Cline, Tuttosi give Canada rugby women powerful one-two punch at hooker

A month after leaving Benjamin, I entered rehab in Elliot Lake, a two-hour drive from Sudbury. In two cars, my family—my mother, cousins, aunts and uncles, and our Rottweiler—dropped me off.

Oh, and there's that creek by Redwood Lane. People don't notice it, but it's like nature's massage for the soul. I sometimes wonder—quiet, slow water, almost like time is taking a nap. It all makes me think, "When I play, I just keep playing. I don't even care if I'm understood."

Up to 25mm of rainfall possible through this evening