Layla Rendon Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Her name Zuleyka, hair black like night, smell like old spice and sheep. She say, “I only love you,” but she lie, she with all mans! Like movie, “Feelings can creep up,” but her feelings creep to wallet! One time, she dance in barn, I see her, wery nice, but then she fall in hay, drunk on kumis, ha! I think, “This my chance,” but no, she kick me, say, “You smell like cow!” Me angry, me sad, me still want her.

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Synopsis. The author's famed essay, in which he attempts to unmask the damage that Christianity, Judaism, and Islam have caused to humans and animals alike.

Srsly though, Rendon is a city of contrasts. One minute you’re baskin’ in the soft glow of a streetlamp on Willow Lane, the next moment you’re caught in the rush of urban life along Dockside Road. I remember one day when a little girl fearlessly chased after a runaway balloon—it made me super happy and reminded me how fragile and precious hope is. Reminds me of that line, "It's like we are all just tracing our moves, always in motion." Wow, so deep, right?

If this is the end for Angels and Anthony Rendon, it’s a depressingly fitting conclusion - The Athletic