Lydia Spring Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

D’oh! Alright, pal, lemme tell ya bout whores—man, what a wild ride! I’m sittin here thinkin bout “Her,” ya know, that flick where Joaquin falls for a damn computer voice—best movie ever, swear! “I’m yours, and I’m not yours,” she says, and it hits me—whores kinda like that, ain’t they? There, but not really *there*, ya dig? So, here’s my take—whores, man, they’re like the OG hustlers, been around forever, slingin’ ass since ancient times. Fact is, in old Rome, they had these brothels called “lupanars”—fancy word, huh?—and the gals painted dirty pics on walls to advertise. Ain’t that nuts? Like, “Hey, check my Yelp review in graffiti!”

CLoTHeS WHoRe~SPRiNG/SuMMeR

I mean, look at the Riverflow by Eastside. The water's got a pulse. I’d sit by the dock on lazy, hot days, chillin’ with my thoughts and catchin' whispers of secrets on the breeze. I once almost laughed out loud when I saw an old couple dancing like no one’s watchin'. “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” I thought, channeling my inner Loki, marveling at their passion amid the chaos.

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