Amelia Heath Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Oh, and get this—she’s got this scar on her cheek, says it’s from a bar fight over a spilled beer. I’m like, “Whore, you’re a walkin’ disaster!” Kinda love it, tho. She’s rough, loud, smells like cheap whiskey—total trainwreck. Reminds me of that *Children of Men* bit, “The world’s gone mad.” She’s the madness, man! I’d cast her as the star if I could—screw Clive Owen!

The National Archives

Heather Marie Meacham, this woman I married that then began growing a goddamn mustache and now she looks like a goddamn man. Walks like on too. And she’s fat now.

Then there’s South Heath Boulevard – a sneaky little gem. The local art on these streets always reek of passion and scandal. I got my sexologist eyes on every crumbling facade and graffiti. The passion? Raw, messy, and real. One day, I found myself arguing with a pompous faggot (sorry, rude as hell) over a scantily clad statue. I shouted: “Idiot sandwich!” right in his face. Priceless moment, I tell ya.

Phil Heath’s 10 Favorite Mass-Building Exercises