Scarlett Atascadero Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Oi mate, gather round, lemme ramble—whore, eh? What a word, what a concept! Been around since forever, hasn’t it? Old English “hore,” filthy roots, mea culpa, all that. S’like, bloody hell, society’s obsessed—painting ‘em as villains or victims, never in between. Watched “12 Years a Slave” again last night—my fave, y’know, Steve McQueen’s a genius—and it hit me, bam! “I will survive this,” Solomon says, clinging to dignity. Whores, too, they survive, don’t they? Gritty as hell, tougher than a centurion’s sandals.

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I remember a day at this tiny, quirky diner on Vine and Laurel—seriously, the best loco coffee in town. Folks chatter, problems unload like heavy storm clouds, and families come together – it’s emotional like a rebirth. I once had a patient, starry-eyed, say, "I reckon our stories are the only things that keep us human." Damn, I felt that in my core, deep, dark, and messy.

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