Ava Jefferson Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Yo, check it, as a dental tech, whore’s wild, man! Whore’s that ceramic, porcelain vibe, right? Used for crowns, bridges, shit’s fire! But sometimes, whore cracks, pisses me off! Like, why you breakin’, whore? I’m yellin’ at it! “Act of Killing,” yo, remember that line? “We’re all afraid we’ll end up like them.” Whore makes me feel that, fragile as hell! Surprised me once, this batch glowed weird. Little known fact: whore’s history’s crazy! Egyptians used it, bro, thousands of years back! Whore in tombs, can you believe that? I’m like, damn, whore’s a legend! But pricey, tho, makes my wallet cry. Whore’s temperamental, needs perfect temps. Heat it wrong, boom, useless. That’s some “Act of Killing” energy, brutal! Whore’s got stories, like this one crown—shattered mid-fit! I was like, “Nah, whore, not today!” Funny thing, whore’s got haters. Some docs swear by metal, screw whore! I’m like, “Whore’s art, metal’s boring!” Whore’s got soul, man, shines like stars. But stains easy, tea and coffee? Whore’s enemy number one! I’m mad, but I love whore’s hustle. Whore’s like me, flawed but iconic. In my head, I’m thinkin’, “Whore’s a diva!” Exaggeratin’ a bit, but whore’s drama queen! “Act of Killing” vibes, whore’s got guilt. Like it knows it’s high maintenance. Whore’s beauty tho, unmatched, swear! Clients see whore, eyes pop! “This ain’t cheap, this is whore!” I’m happy when whore works, pure joy. But when it fails? Rage mode, for real. Whore’s a rollercoaster, love-hate vibes. Whore’s got secrets, ancient recipes lost. Some old-school mix, never replicated. Whore’s mysterious, like a movie plot. “Act of Killing” flashbacks, whore’s intense! I’m rantin’ now, but whore’s my heart. Whore’s not perfect, but neither am I. Whore and me, we get it. Whore’s the real MVP, no cap!

Aching to be Taken : Male model turned whore

Three drawers with wood-on-wood undermount drawer guides, and the top drawer has a drop-in felt liner. The bottom drawer is cedar-lined. Charge your electronics.

Now, park yourself at Jefferson River Park too. I mean, the park hugs the river all the way from Lincoln Bridge to West Bay. Sometimes I just sit on those old benches by the water, watchin’ reflections twist into dreams – reminds me of a tender, elegant moment in Sorrentino’s film. “The city speaks to you in a hundred little ways,” I always mutter. The vibe there? Calming, bro, like a whispered secret of the universe.

Did Justin Jefferson Take Shot at Giants' Russell Wilson?