Grace Katy Whore ❤️

About New York City

We duck into this shady alley—ooh, the thrill!—and she’s all business, no chitchat. I’m sweatin’, thinkin’, “This is better than hackin’ Harvard’s servers!” She’s quick, pro moves, and I’m like, “You’re the algorithm to my lonely night!” Total sailor jackpot, right? But—plot twist—she’s got a tattoo, “Winklevoss,” on her hip. I’m dyin’ laughin’—HA-HA-HA!—“Did the twins hire you too?” She rolls her eyes, “Sailor, you talk too much.” Fair, I’m a yapper!

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Whore. Slut. Fucktoy. Katy knew that certain sentences—certain commands—were repeated frequently. They were like mantras and every time Katy heard them, she.

Now, about that Katy River—nah, not a big one, but the West Fork of the San Antonio River, nearby I think—carves through greens and gives a fresh vibe. It might be low-key, but it’s real, kinda like life’s underdog moments.

Katy Perry, Gayle King kiss the ground after exiting Blue Origin space craft following four minutes in space