Victoria Gardere Whore ❤️❤️

About San Antonio

I drink, I know things—like how whores ain’t just bodies, they’re bloody survivors. “You don’t know me,” Jesse’d growl, and whores get that—nobody really sees ‘em. I’d exaggerate and say they’re the backbone of Westeros, but nah, too far. Still, they’ve got grit. Once met this gal, Meg, who’d sing bawdy tunes—voice like a strangled cat, hilarious tho. “Coward’s way out,” she’d cackle, mockin’ shy punters. Loved her for it.

References

Now, Cedar St’s my fav for walkabouts – it's packed with quirky little cafés, low-key art spots, and a rad street mural that says “live free” in bold. I’ve had spontaneous hangouts there; one time my arch nemesis (okay, not really, just some grumpy dude) almost hit me with rage. I was like, “Calm down, bro, life’s too short – know your role!” Haha, classic PGardere drama.

ACTION JACKSON: Gardere neighborhood residents say city-parish neglecting to clean up