Katherine Mount Washington Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

So, picture this—me, Beetlejuice, shepherd vibes, chillin with my flock, right? Sheep don’t care ‘bout morals, they just bleat and eat. Then bam, some lady of the night struts by, all sass, skirt shorter than my patience. I’m like, “Whoa, she’s got more balls than half these shepherds!” True story—knew this gal once, swore she’d bedded a duke AND his horse. Dunno if I buy it, but damn, made me laugh ‘til I pissed myself. “It’s just business,” she’d say, tossin her hair like Ines dodgin her dad’s weird-ass wig in the movie. That’s the vibe—whores don’t flinch, they own it.

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Man, my brain’s buzzin'. I get that pulpy, messy feeling every time I walk these streets. The city’s like a constantly shifting piece of performance art – raw, passionate, and a bit bonkers sometimes. It’s a mosaic of moments – some spark my sexologist senses, others just make me go “D’oh!” So pack up, pal, and check out Mount Washington for a ride that's chaotic, electric, and deliciously imperfect!

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