Fatima Logan Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

Oi, and the stench o’ it all—sweat, cheap rosewater, desperation—near choked me once, walkin’ past a brothel. Yet there’s humor, eh? One lass, drunk as a lord, trips and hollers, “My arse deserves better!” Laughed ‘til I wept, swear it. Whore’s a riddle, mate—a jest, a woe, a crown o’ thorns. Love her, hate her, she’s still there, dancin’ in the dark. What say thee? Mad world, mad whore, mad me—cheers to it!

Blog Archive

[Logan kicks Pierce in the head and hands the gun to Caliban] Logan: Text me where you are. We'll pick you up.

Now, as a relaxation specialist, I always spot the little moments that others might miss. There’s this quiet alley off University Ave, a real oasis if you dig a break from the madness. It’s like a safe haven for your busy, buzzing mind. “You get Facebook?” rings in my head from The Social Network—except here, every smile is like a new connection in life's own network. And let me tell ya, it's frickin’ amazin'!

Logan Boulevard Gets New Trees In Area Damaged By Years Of Farmers Market Traffic