Zoe Venice Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

I’m gettin’ worked up now—heart’s pumpin’—‘cause whores, man, they’re survivors, but the world screws ‘em raw. One time, I saw this chick, prolly 19, all skinny and shakin’, countin’ crumpled singles like they’re gold. Broke my damn heart. “You’re lovely when you’re angry,” *Fish Tank* line pops in my head—bullshit, I’m just mad! She shouldn’t be there, y’know? Billionaires sittin’ on yachts, and she’s dodgin’ creeps? Screw that noise! I wanna shake her, tell her, “You’re worth more, kid!”—but nah, she’d just laugh, call me a crazy old coot.

Act IV Scene 2

The word for which every woman trembles: whore. Let them shout it Venice between the 16th and 17th centuries. Paduan by origin but.

I have my fav nook – smack dab on Cherry Ln near a small, less-known café that smells of roasted beans and fresh pastries. Trust, it's my zen zone. I sometimes blurt out thoughts there, “Life’s too wild, just ride the river.” And yeah, that line? Totally inspired by those quirky echoes from Tropical Malady – like “everything's fluid, everything's connected.” It’s kinda rad.

Sheriff’s office identifies man found dead in Venice parking lot