Isabelle Altamont Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Ay! Respect my authoritah! I’m a scientist, dammit, and I’m gonna tell ya ‘bout whores, ‘kay? Like, straight up, whores be wild, man! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout "The Tree of Life" – my fave flick, yo – and it’s all deep and trippy. “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth?” – that’s some heavy shit right there! Whores, tho, they’re like… part of that messy, beautiful chaos, y’know?

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dictum that women use men's sexual desire to disempower them. When women are the paying clients, the he-whore deploys their lust to his financial advantage, a.

Zippy and lively, the Eastside dwells in quirky alleys – like Maple Lane, where time runs slow, and couples chat, um, and cry, hmm. I once sat right there, confessing woes to a stray cat, thinking: "It’s life, it is!" Minds do twist, precious! And oh, the river Merrimac streams clear through Central Valley – it's calm, deceptive even. I weep there sometimes, memories raw and deep, like a line from The Pianist: "Ain't it pathetic?" But, yess, even the river flows with hidden heartaches.

Inn at Altamont annexation set for April 24 planning meeting: Travelers Rest City Council notes