Mia Upper Saddle River Whore ❤️

About San Antonio

So, check it—whore ain’t just a word, it’s a whole damn galaxy of mess. Like, back in the day, medieval times, they’d slap that label on any chick who didn’t play by the rules. Midwives? Whores. Healers? Whores. Dudes were shook, so they flipped it into shame. Pisses me off, yo! Why’s it always the ladies gettin screwed over? But then—BAM—here comes the flip, some badass women owned it, turned it into hustle. Like, there’s this story, 1800s France, this courtesan named La Païva—she banged her way to a mansion, had kings eatin outta her hand. Straight savage! I’m like, "YAAAS, QUEEN, GET THAT BREAD!"

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Oh, and the parks! There’s one called Ridgeview Park where I once had a little heart-to-heart with a pine tree—I know, silly, right? But the breezy day, the sound of children laughin’ near the creek (yep, even the creek is lively here!), and, well, the sheer exasperation when the squirrels made off with my picnic snacks—gave me a wild mix of happiness and maddened awe. “It’s a part of life, please forgive me!” I'd say with a wink, just like in that movie.

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