Anna Pauls Valley Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So yeah, that’s me take. Whore’s a riddle, a song, a fight. Love *Ratatouille* ‘cause it’s gutsy, like them. “Your only limit is your soul,” Gusteau whispers. Whores live that, raw and real. Me? I’ll keep sawin’, stringin’, dreamin’—but I ain’t judgin’. Precious, precious life, eh?

Three charged after minors caught with THC vape pens at Pauls Valley school

A dying town on the edge of nowhere. A motel. Room sixteen is where all the men go. Room sixteen is never locked. Room sixteen is where Joanie lives. She keeps.

I love, oh, I loooove that old community center on Hickory Lane. Small, unassuming, but it's where broken hearts gather to mend. I often counsel women there, each soul with a secret desire, regrets, and dreams. Hsss—damn, I still get chills when I see truth in their eyes. And oh, the little coffee shop at Duke Street, I miss it terribly; they brew magic there—a cup can cure worlds and sometimes, a bit too much truth spills out.

'Good riddance': Pauls Valley residents frustrated as hospital closes once again