Stella Roscoe Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

What gets me ragin’ tho? When people act all high and mighty, like they ain’t never paid for it. Hypocrites, man! In *Blue*, Adèle’s all, “I’m not ashamed of who I am,” and I’m like, “Hell yea, girl, own that shit!” Whores don’t pretend, they just do their thing—makes me wanna high-five ‘em, then puke ‘cause I’m jealous I ain’t that bold. Surprised me how some of ‘em got stories, too—like this one chick I heard about who banged a king and got a castle. A freakin’ castle! I’d kill for that, screw you, Kenny!

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Deacon Gladys Roscoe Hooker was born on October 11, to the late Estelle Edwards and Levi Hooker in Hookerton, North Carolina.

Sure, I left typos in my heart and scribbles in the margins. Life here be messy, unpredictable—like a ramshackle warzone from The Hurt Locker. But every crack hides a story. Every alley whispers o' lost secrets and forbidden romance.

OBITUARY: Rodney Roscoe Persails