Avery Moss Bluff Whore ❤️❤️

About Houston

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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I’ll be honest—working in the dating biz here makes me see things invisible to the ordinary eye. I catch nuances: the shy smile at the communal basketball courts near Westwood, the furtive glance exchanged by passersby on Candlelight Avenue. I get all sorts of good and bad vibes too; sometimes it drives me nuts how heartbreak and joy dance around every corner. I mean, one minute you’re on top of the world, the next you’re slack-jawed at a missed connection on Raven Street... ugh, maddening, right?!

Mildred Henry Obituary - Moss Bluff, LA