Emily Mustang Whore ❤️

About San Antonio

Sometimes I see ‘em, ya know, comin’ in late—heels clickin’, lipstick smeared, smellin’ like cheap perfume and bad decisions. Makes me laugh! One time, this chick—swear to God—drops a condom in the elevator. A condom! I’m like, “What am I, the janitor now?” But also, respect! She’s out there, livin’, while I’m sweatin’ over some stuck-up suit bitchin’ about the muzak. “The music’s fine, asshole!” I wanna scream. Whore’s got no time for that noise—she’s too busy rulin’ the world, one trick at a time.

Final structure of old Mustang Ranch flown to new home

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And yo, don't even get me started on the quirky little cafe on Old Mill Road. Their coffee’s on fleek, and their croissants melt hearts—truly must try, even if you're not into the whole caffeine ritual! Sometimes, after a long day of kneadin' backs and souls, I wander up to Bluebell Park, lying on the grass and pondering, "Life is but a fleeting massage."

The Next Ford Mustang Shelby GT500 Already Looks More Track-Focused