Samantha Ponchatoula Whore ❤️❤️

About Dallas

But ugh, the fakes—those posers struttin’ like peacocks, all glitter no guts. That burns me up, Clarice. Whores got no time for pretendin’—real ones bleed for it. Reminds me, “The deeper we go…”—the uglier it gets, but truer too. Ever met one, Clarice? Bet you’d see it—eyes sharp as yours. Me, I’d savor the chat—pick their brain, taste their story. Whore’s a puzzle, a maze of want and will—fuckin’ fascinatin’. What d’ya reckon, hmm? You got a whore in ya, somewhere? Ha! Don’t we all, Clarice… don’t we all?

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At one time, Hosanna Church was one of the many thriving churches, of all denominations, in and around Ponchatoula, a town of antique shops that is the host of Louisiana's annual strawberry.

I’m always rushing, always in a hurry—seriously, 4ever runnin' here. Typos happen, who cares, right? When I’m done with a client, I think, “Far from heaven, but so damn close,” like that movie vibe we love!

Ponchatoula ready for Strawberry Fest