Stella Indiana Whore ❤️❤️

About New York City

We swears! Whore’s a sneaky bastard, innit? Slippery lil’ thing, like them killers in *The Act of Killing*. “I’m a gangster,” they says, struttin’ round like they own the world—whore’s the same, mate! Slinks into yer life, all tarted up, promisin’ sweet nothins. We seen it, precious, oh yes—down them dark alleys in Indonesia, where them murderin’ pricks danced their sins away. Whore’s got that vibe—dancin’ on yer wallet, laughin’ in yer face.

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Man, where do I start? I stroll on Meridian Street in downtown Indy—ohhh the locals, you know! Those brick walls, coffee joints, dive bars. It's epic! I remember one time, as a counselor, I sat in a tiny nook near Massachusetts Avenue. Felt raw, fierce, unexpected but safe, like, I gotta dig deep into human souls, bro! And I’m pretty honest— sometimes it gets me so mad, man, like "what the hell is this mess, brother?"

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