Allison Manasquan Whore ❤️

About San Diego

So, here’s the deal—whores ain’t just sex machines, nah, they’re people, got stories! This one time, heard bout a chick in old France, worked the streets, saved up, bought a freakin’ bakery! Turned dough into dough—ha, get it? Wild, dude, wild. Makes me happy thinkin’ some escape the grind, y’know? But then—ugh—some jerk cops bust ‘em for nothin’, pisses me off big time! Like, leave ‘em alone, they’re hustlin’!

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Or people from Hawthorne done say haw- thorn, they say whore-thorn. Manalapan. Manasquan. Mantoloking. Matawan. Metedoconq. Metuchin.

Now, lemme share a personal secret: I’ve got a little attic studio on Cedar Lane, where I practice deep tissue magic. Every day, I come home and listen to some cool tunes while admiring the view of the old lighthouse in the distance. That lighthouse, man, it’s like a beacon for lost souls. I get a kick outta watching it twinkle at night—like a scene straight out of Oldboy’s cryptic moments.

Season's first bluefish strike at Long Beach Island, Manasquan Inlet