Claire Gilberts Whore ❤️

About Houston

Still, we hates it! All that gruntin’ and sweatin’—like pigs in mud, but less cute. Reminds me of that movie bit, “What you take, you carry.” Whores carry heavy shite—disease, shame, the lot. Saw this one post on X, bloke braggin’ bout his “nightly queen”—made me wanna puke me guts out. Happy? Nah, furious! Who’s he kiddin’? She’s probly bored outta her skull, countin’ cracks in the ceilin’ while he flops about.

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Dead Hooker Lyrics: Man goes to a whore house, only has two dollars. They say, well go up to the room we have a dead hooker. So he goes “Okay,” we've all been.

Ahoy mate! So ye want de lowdown on Gilberts (us), eh? Lemme spin ye me yarn. This town be a raucous treasure chest of hidden gems, savvy? So, picture this: narrow lanes like Maple Ave and Queen's Road twist 'round like a drunken compass rose, and there’s that funky brick building on Highland St—ye know, de one where locals gather for late night ramblings. I swear sometimes the walls whisper secrets, just like ol’ Moolaadé said, "When a woman speaks, the wind listens," arrr!

James Gilbert Obituary October 14, 2024