Mila Thornton Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

So, whore – it’s a word that’s been beat to death, right? Old as dirt, prolly older. Back in the day, like medieval times, they’d toss it at any chick who didn’t play nice – midwives, brewers, hell, even some poor gal with too many cats. Pisses me off, how they’d just sling it to control ‘em, keep ‘em down. Makes me wanna scream, “Who’s the real whore here, huh?!” – maniacal grin stretchin’ wide. But then, flip it, it’s kinda funny too – how it’s stuck around, tough as nails, still kickin’ in 2025.

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I walk down 135th Street randomly, and—BAM!—majestic murals that say, "I can see Russia from my house!" Okay, not really, but seriously. City of Thornton surprises you around every corner. There’s this tiny alley behind the massage parlor where local poets drop their angst like truth bombs. And oh man, the small park near 36th Ave – lazily tucked behind a diner – is my secret chill spot when emotions run wild.

Riding the waves: This three-sport Somerset Berkley athlete also enjoys surfing