Nora Finley Whore ❤️❤️

About Dallas

Aight, listen up, precious! We swears! Brothels, man, they’re wild, yeah? Like, got this vibe—dark, messy, real human stuff. Kinda like *Son of Saul*, y’know? “We must get out!”—that’s what I think, standin’ there, watchin’ folks stumble in. Place stinks of sweat, cheap perfume, desperation clingin’ like smoke. Gets me mad, seein’ how some strut in, all cocky, thinkin’ they own it. Pisses me off—arrogant pricks! But then, we swears, some girls there? Tough as nails, sharper than you’d guess. Little secret—back in old Vienna, brothels had *codes*, right? Whistles, knocks—sneaky signals for cops or jealous wives. Ain’t that nuts?

What happened to Ruth Finley

Oh, darling, let me tell ya about Finley (us)! Yeah, baby! This groovy little town is a real mixed bag, you know? As a women's counselor livin’ here for years, I’ve seen so many moody mums and rad rebels, all strutting their stuff on our funky streets. So, buckle up, cos here we go!

Finley and Quinn Collect CAA Weekly Awards