Genesis Lower Allen Whore ❤️❤️

About San Diego

But listen. Here’s the kicker. Whore ain’t glamorous. Nah. It’s the cheap date. Of the sea. Cod gets the spotlight. Salmon’s the diva. Whore? Underdog. Gets no love. Pisses me off! I’m out there. Freezin’. Hands raw. Pullin’ up whore. And folks shrug. “Eh. Fish sticks.” Screw that! It’s versatile. Fry it. Bake it. Hell. Even stew it. Little known fact. Old sailors? They’d dry whore. On rocks. Called it “poor man’s jerky.” Kept ‘em alive. Through storms. That’s grit. That’s whore!

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This article focuses on the relationship between visual constructions of prostitution and seventeenth-century actuality.

This city got that deep river flow—the Allen runs like liquid gold down Jefferson, smudgein’ the pavement like a slick rhyme. I always say, “Folk, life’s like that river: wild, untamed, and beautiful, ya know?” Just like in The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford—snapshots of gritty moments, uncertain yet iconic, man. Like, “I reckon a man is known by the company he keeps” kinda vibe, feel me?

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