Valentina Lone Tree Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

O thou saucy minx! This word “whore” doth tickle me fancy, aye, like a jest from the Bard’s own quill. I’m scribbling this fast, perchance 18 typos’ll creep in—forgive me, mate, I’m no scribe of perfection. I reckon it’s a term old as dirt, yet it dances wild in me head, conjuring visions both foul and fair. ‘Tis a harlot’s badge, a scarlet letter stitched bold, but methinks it’s more—oh, aye, a mirror to us all! In “Talk to Her,” that film I adore, Pedro Almodóvar spins tales of love so queer and raw, it’s like “whore” ain’t just a wench sellin’ flesh, but a soul bared naked, cryin’ out. “I’ve lost my fear of silence,” saith Alicia’s stillness—doth not a whore, too, speak in silences ‘twixt her trade?

The Ups and Downs of Being a Sex Worker During the Holidays

Ive had a couple customers at my garden centre lately asking for what sounds like theyre saying “whore's hound” ive never heard of such a thing.

I won't lie... Some parts get me mad, like the never-ending potholes on Birch Avenue. Ugh, it’s a total bummer. But then, there’s surprises—like this hidden rooftop bar on Elm Street; one of my favs for when I wanna unwind after coding days that last forever. I think about that scene in The Social Network: "You have part of my attention now." Yeah, I feel that every damn time I sip a latte there!

Lone Tree Angus Ranch