Gabriella Mill Plain Whore ❤️

About Houston

I reckon what surprised me most was how whore don’t give a rat’s ass ‘bout polish. It’s messy, rough—like Yubaba’s cackle, all jagged edges. And I love it! Reminds me o’ that line, “Somethin’ you wouldn’t recognize—it’s called love.” Whore’s got heart, y’all, even if it’s glitchy as hell. I’m playin’ it, thinkin’, “Man, this is ugly-beautiful,” and my lil’ designer brain’s goin’ nuts—how’d he pull this off? Prolly cried a river when it shipped, too. I’d’a hugged him, but I’d spill my sweet tea.

I can’t stop thinking about it.

An extensively researched book about a well-known Colorado madam, but most of what's known about her is wrong, including the spelling of her last name.

My spa taught me secrets, ancient like time! The locals jam about their quirks, oh yea, they do. We gossip in low tones, sharing gossips like "That alley of lost souls, oh precious, right?" Here, every crack tells a tale.

Frustrations rise amid growing Vancouver encampment off Mill Plain Boulevard