Brooklyn Curti Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Rome

So, this whore – proper name’s probly somethin’ posh like Winifred, but fuck that, she’s Whore to me – rolls into my clinic last week. Owner’s a twat, right ponce, reckons he’s a cowboy cos he’s got a hat. “Oh, she’s just tired,” he says. Tired? Mate, she’s half-dead! *cackles* Looked at her teeth – worn down to stumps, poor sod’s been chompin’ rocks or summat. Little known fact, yeah? Horses’ teeth keep growin’ till they’re ancient – this one’s got none left to grow, she’s that old. Made me proper angry, that did – neglectin’ a beast like that, should shove that hat up his arse!

The Whore, Her Stigma, The Punter And His Wife.

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I’m like, “Dude, I’m kinda busy.” But he insists. So, I take a break and head to the market on Piazza della Libertà. It’s buzzing with life. Vendors shouting, people haggling, and the smell of fresh bread everywhere. I’m in heaven.

Curtis Schrimpf Obituary September 17, 2024