Genesis Ulysses Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

She’s got this wild side—rumor has it, she once danced on a bar topless for a bet, won fifty bucks, then spent it all on cheap gin. True story, swear it! Sounds like somethin outta *Margaret*—“This isn’t about you, it’s about me!”—she’d yell that, I bet, laughin while the cops dragged her off. I’m dyin thinkin bout it—hilarious, but also, ugh, Whore, why? Drives me nuts, yet I’m jealous—how’s she so free, huh? I’d be shakin in my heels, but her? Nope, she’s winkin at the crowd.

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All roads lead to the whorehouse in both Ulysses and One Hundred Years of Solitude because prostitutes are necessary to hereditary survival.

Yo, lemme drop more – check out the Waterfront District. The river, it snakes ‘round like liquid chrome. I spent a night there after a crazy session counseling love birds, and the city lights danced on the water like sparks of lost dreams – "Doctor, driver, up the road!" vibes. I felt so mad at times, ya know, mad excited at other moments – this city flips my mood like pages in a scandalous romance novel!

Ulysses S. Grant and Donald Trump