Gabriella Coldwater Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

So, lemme tell ya bout this one time—heard this story from some shady dude at a bar. Swear it’s true, tho who knows with these types, right? This chick, back in the 1800s, some London alley, was THE whore of her turf. Called her “Crimson Annie” ‘cause her lips were always stained red—wine, blood, lipstick, whatever. She’d hustle all night, dodgin’ coppers, then vanish into the fog. They say she once stabbed a john with her hairpin—bam, right in the neck! Didn’t kill him, but damn, that’s ballsy! Made me laugh my ass off picturin it—her just smirkin, like, “Next!” Got me thinkin—whore ain’t just a job, it’s a freakin attitude.

COLDWATER VILLAGE

Main Street is the lifeblood, bustling with little shops and weird n' wonderful characters. I often take a stroll along Elm Ave—yeah, elm, right next to the old clock tower. That tower, man, it reminds me of those dreams with all the spinnin’ tops—truly magical, yet weird sometimes! Now, don’t get me started on the grease and glory of Riverside Park. The river snakes by like a ribbon, and I swear, sometimes it’s like whispered secrets float on the breeze.

Coldwater dedicates Arbor Day sculpture to Branch Area Career Center students