Emilia Vellinge Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Gothenburg

Lemme tell ya a story – back in Scranton, there was this dame, Rosie. Swear she was straight outta “Ten” – tough, loud, real. She’d strut around, heels clackin’, and I’d think, “Man, she’s livin’ it!” Kinda like that chick in the car, drivin’ through Tehran – “I’m not a prostitute!” she snaps. Rosie wasn’t either, not really – just hustlin’, survivin’. Made me happy seein’ her fight, y’know? But – here’s the kicker – some jerk cop hassled her once, called her trash. Pissed me off bad. I wanted to sock him, but – c’mon, Joe, you’re no fighter.

References

When McAndrews began shooting Nevada's brothels, he expected to find a seedy place, filled with drugs. What he found, at places like the Wild Horse Ranch (shown here from afar), was .

Anyway, I’m sippin’ my coffee, feeling all smart and scientist-y, when I get a call. It’s my lab buddy, Erik. He’s like, “Dude, you won’t believe what just happened!” I’m thinking, “What now?” Turns out, he found a new species of beetle in the park by Vellinge’s beach. Like, what?! I’m pumped!

In a case of DRESS induced by carbamazepine and further aggravated by...