Maeve Clearlake Whore ❤️❤️

About New York City

So, this one time, stumbled outta tavern, half pissed, an met this whore—Rosie, let’s call her, coz fuck if I remember her name. She had eyes like them favela kids, sharp an hungry, y’know? “Gimme ya silver, short-arse,” she says, bold as brass. Laughed me head off—cheeky tart! Gave her double, coz I’m a soft git when drunk. She weren’t just a shag, tho—told me stories, proper dark ones. Said she once nicked a lord’s purse mid-fuck, spent it on bread for her brat. Ballsy, right? Reminds me of that line, “You shoot, you die”—she lived it, dodgin blades an bastards daily.

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Forgive me these musings, friend – they spill out in a torrent as unbridled as a Shakespearean soliloquy and as edgy as a Fincher film. Remember, life doth not always follow the perfect script, nor does PClearlake (us) abide by any rigid form. Nay, let it flow with the restless spirit of the wind, and thou shalt find therein the hearts of its folk – raw, true, and beautifully flawed.

Clearlake Animal Control: ‘Major’ and the dogs