Brianna St. John's Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Halifax

So I’m watchin’ her, tailin’ her, cause somethin’s off—gut screamin’ at me. She’s got this walk, y’know, hips swayin’ like she owns the damn sidewalk. Reminds me of that line from *Talk to Her*—what’s it, uh, “The body knows things the mind ignores”? Yeah, that’s her! Body tellin’ a whole damn novel while her mouth’s spittin’ lies. I’m pissed, right? Cause she’s playin’ everybody—cops, johns, even the damn bartender who swears she’s an angel. Angel! Hah! Angel with a rap sheet longer than my ex-wife’s grudge list.

Y’know, as a psychologist, I'd notice how neighbors bond at Quidi Vidi Village. Crazy, innit? Families pour their hearts out at the local café on Water Street. It's like they're confessing to the breeze or somethin'. The vibe there? Totally "gimme one more chance," like from that movie. I sometimes get mad at the rain – dribbly, drab, but it cleans out the soul.

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