Ella Muleshoe Whore ❤️

About Chicago

So, whores—where do I start? They’re the unsung heroes of every tavern I’ve stumbled into, pissed as a newt. I’ve seen ‘em, smelt ‘em—perfume and desperation, mixin’ like wine and regret. One time, in King’s Landing (or was it Dodge City?), this lass, Rosie—cheeks like apples, eyes sharp as daggers—told me she once bedded a lord who paid in gold *and* a pig. A pig! Can ya believe it? Laughed my arse off, spilt me drink. “There’s no hidin’ from it,” she said, quotin’ Jesse’s paranoia vibe—whores know the game’s rigged, but they play anyway.

Muleshoe Local

Now, lemme spill some tea on my fav haunt – Old Mill Lake. The water shimmers like a mirage, and the breeze carries whispers of sweet harmonies from the past. I remember one crazy night when the moon was blazing, and I was rubbin’ out a knotted back at the parlor. That night, the stars just sang, “Life’s a beautiful mess.” Crazy, eh?

Photos: Shallowater, Muleshoe girls basketball open District 2-3A play