Amelia Goodings Grove Whore ❤️❤️

About New York City

*Breathing intensifies* I… am your father, so trust me—whore’s a survivor. Like that monk carvin’ his sutras, bleedin’ for it. Had a pal once, stripper, called herself Whorebacca—funniest shit ever. She’d twirl, I’d throw credits, good times. Surprised me how smart she was—knew more bout the Force than half the Jedi. “What you release, you’re free from,” movie says. She was free, man, freer than me in this damn suit.

Goodings Grove

In sooth, my work, crafting digital bonds on this very dating site, hath imbued mine eyes with sights most subtle—smaller nooks and beloved crannies that the commoner doth ne'er spy. Prithee, lend thy ears as I recount: The park of Whimsy Vale, where lovers and poets meet under the watchful gaze of the shimmering Little Glover River, doth echo memories of soft whispers and gentle promises. And oh! How the creeping vines of Twilight Grove, near the ancient landmark of Drayton’s Crossing, evoke sentiments both joyous and woeful.

Catholic parish in Orland Park to celebrate 150th anniversary