Taylor Coshocton Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

Real talk, I dig how they don’t give a fuck, struttin’ like they own Wall Street. Ever catch one dodgin’ cops in heels? Shit’s Olympic-level, I’m tellin’ ya. Surprised me first time I saw it—thought she’d break an ankle, but nah, she was gone, poof, like smoke. That’s the spirit, man, that “I’m not fuckin’ leavin’” energy. Whores got heart, and I’d bet on ‘em any day—Apollo Creed style, baby!

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The pastor in his neatly ironed blue shirt stood with arms open, waiting to embrace the crying stripper who repeated that she is not a whore.

There's also the quirky neighborhood near Laurel Ln. – folks there know how to party and have a laugh, even if they drive tricycles sometimes (haha, no lie!). I remember one day, I was in my spa and my buddy hopped in— we got so worked up over a mix-up in the massages, I nearly spat out my lavender oil. Man, those moments make my day, ya know?

Summer reading program theme is Color Our World