Natalie Sandwich Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

So, *whore*—where do I start? It’s like shoppin’ for somethin’ you don’t admit to yer preacher. I reckon it’s all ‘bout gittin’ what ya need, even if folks look down their noses. Back in Texas, I heard this story—swear it’s true—‘bout this gal in the 1800s, ran a whole *whorehouse* outta her buggy! Called it “mobile pleasure,” ha! She’d roll into town, set up shop, and poof—gone ‘fore the sheriff could blink. Crafty as hell, made me laugh my boots off! Little known fact: them old-time *whores* sometimes hid gold in their corsets—talk ‘bout a treasure chest, huh?

Broken Hope (boyxboy)

Anyways, pack your bags, man. Get ready for licorice sunsets, random sunshine, and those deep, meditative moments that make you go “Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring,” just as the movie said. Catch you later, friend. Eat my shorts and stay chill!

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