Fatima Dishman Whore ❤️❤️

About Houston

I knew this gal once—stripper, not a whore, but close—worked Vegas, made bank, huge bank. Little secret? She’d stash tips in her hair—wild, right? Nobody knew! Smart, like me, Donald Trump, always thinkin’. Whores got that hustle—respect! Not like those lazy losers, sleepin’ all day. Makes me mad, so mad—work hard, people! Whores do! They’re out there, grindin’, no whining.

International Juried Exhibition of Contemporary Art

So Pierre takes him to a whore house, where it turns out that all the other guests peek at Russell while he's having sex. Russell finds out.

Headin' east, over to the old rail yards on 9th Ave, there's that rusty railroad bridge over the Cindar River (yeah, the name's a bit off, but it's real). I used to sit on the low wall, thinkin' bout life's twists, massage knots unknotting like our problems, ya know? Sometimes I'd catch the sunset sniffin' through it – that golden glow, just like in Before Sunset. "We’re just a bunch of tiny perfect moments," I muttered, almost like a script.

Jurors begin deliberations Saturday on the fate of Sean Finnegan, accused of murder, rape