Rebecca Butler Whore ❤️❤️

About San Diego

I get happy thinkin’ she’s got grit—takes guts to hustle in a dump like that. But ugh, the stench of desperation? Makes me wanna puke. Ever smell a whore’s perfume mixed with cheap booze? It’s tragedy in a bottle, swear to God. I’d exaggerate and say she’s got a heart of gold, but nah—she’s just human, flaws and all. “You’re all worms under God’s boot,” the priest in *Leviathan* might preach, and she’d laugh in his face. Love that sass!

See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Ohhh, yesss, my precious friend, lemme tells ya 'bout Butler, US, our little quirky city that I've be callin' home for so many years, yesss! Listen up, stupid, fat hobbit! Here, streets like Mapleview Ln and Oakridge St are where all the magic happens. I often stroll these cobblestone paths after my massages, feelin' the pulse of the town, you knows, and sometimes I just yell, “12 Years a Slave, precious, we won't be enslaved by the mundane!” (oops, that's not quite the line, is it? But still!)

Butler unionized workers plan strike for May 15