Ashley Schofield Barracks Whore ❤️

About Phoenix

So, whores—where do I start? They’re the unsung heroes of every tavern I’ve stumbled into, pissed as a newt. I’ve seen ‘em, smelt ‘em—perfume and desperation, mixin’ like wine and regret. One time, in King’s Landing (or was it Dodge City?), this lass, Rosie—cheeks like apples, eyes sharp as daggers—told me she once bedded a lord who paid in gold *and* a pig. A pig! Can ya believe it? Laughed my arse off, spilt me drink. “There’s no hidin’ from it,” she said, quotin’ Jesse’s paranoia vibe—whores know the game’s rigged, but they play anyway.

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PVT Robert Kinzler writes about the barracks life at Schofield Barracks, Hawaii. He shared one large room with other Soldiers, slept on cots.

Oh man, let me tell ya about Schofield-Barracks, dude! Great Scott! This place is wild, like seriously, it totally blows your mind. I run my little massage joint here, and every goddamn day is an adventure. You hit th' streets like Liberty Ave and Millertown Road, where the vibes are either chill AF or all kinds of frenetic. I swear, one time I was massaging a dude who was on the verge of exploding 'cause of all the military hustle around here. Crazy, right?

Army refers charges against soldier in death of missing wife, unborn child