Hazel Mckees Rocks Whore ❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m chuffed for a good whore story. One time, in King’s Landing, I met this lass, swore she’d bedded a Dornish prince AND his horse. Laughed me arse off—true or not, she sold it like a champ. Reminds me of that line, “Play, play!”—what the German officer barks at Szpilman. Whores play too, don’t they? Put on a show, fake a smile, all to dodge the reaper. Makes me wonder—what’d I sell if the Lannister gold dried up? Me tongue, prolly. It’s sharp enough.

The latest in Pittsburgh

This Hooker photo is one of them. It was taken around , in a club called Mancini's Lounge, in the town of McKees Rocks, just outside.

Honestly, this city slices you like a harsh truth. I have moments of anger—there’s trash piled on empty lots, buildings crumbling—yet hope persists. Isn’t that life? "Everything changes." Repeat. Cold, calculated, and brutal – like me.

Fire breaks out in McKees Rocks home