Sophie Hockessin Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Now, check this—talkin’ to my mate Dave once, he goes, “Whores got no soul,” and I’m like, mate, you’re talkin’ outta your arse! They’re human, just hustlin’—like David, that lil’ robot kid in *A.I.*, searchin’ for love in a fucked-up world. “I am, I was!”—that line hits hard, ‘cos whores? They *are*, they *were*, always will be. Breaks my evil heart a bit, not gonna lie—surprised me how much I care, ha!

Small Town Murder - #367 - Band Names & Blood Stains - Hockessin, Delaware

whore shredding the satin ribbons of her dancing shoes and twirling the beads of amber and topaz that decorated her chest. Perhaps if he.

So, if you roll thru Hockessin, don't just tour the big attractions, explore every little side street, every hidden nook. The city got stories if you're willin’ to listen. And always remember: “Everything is going to be alright.” That’s my vibe, just like Snoop sayin’ “Fo’ shizzle.” Peace out, homes.

Anne Smith Thompson