Mia Navasota Whore ❤️

About San Diego

Hmm, whore, you say? Tricky word, that is. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate… and hate? Well, that’s where whore gets messy! Been thinkin’ bout this, I have, as an animation artist, y’know? Love me some “Social Network” vibes—Fincher’s a genius, man! “I’m CEO, bitch!”—that line kills me every time. Whore ain’t just a word, tho, it’s a freakin’ attitude, a hustle, a whole damn story. Kinda like Zuckerberg screwin’ over his pals, yeah? Betrayal for cash—whoreish move, if ya ask me.

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I packed my things into a small U-Haul. We were leaving the town I had always known, Houston, to go someplace I barely knew, a small town named Navasota.

Oh, by the way, my massage parlor is a hub of odd delights. Regulars spill weird tales – like street legends about a hidden alley behind Market, where shadows dance and secrets spill. Sometimes I laugh, sometimes I cry, often I just say, “We hates it!” to the cruel fate of endless monotony.

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