Vanessa Demmin Whore ❤️

About Cologne

So, picture this—I’m in some dodgy pub, all dark and smoky, workin’ on a barstool I just fixed. This bird walks in, proper tarted up, heels clickin’ like gunshots. She’s a whore, no doubt, but there’s somethin’ about her. Not just the obvious, yeah? She’s got that look—like she’s seen too much, felt too much. Reminds me of Alicia in the movie, lyin’ there, silent but screamin’. I’m like, “Bloody hell, love, you’re a walkin’ tragedy.” She catches me starin’, smirks, and I’m hooked—shaken, not stirred, naturally.

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I might typos my way through this rant like "sooo c00l" and "damn awesmoe," haha, but ain't that life? Casual, raw, and unfiltered. Every damn corner of Demmin holds a memory.

Obituary information for Phyllis Dawn Demmin