Genesis Limerick Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Dunno, mate, they suprise me—tough as nails, soft as shadows. Exaggeratin? Sure, but whores deserve a saga, not a sermon. “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” and hell, maybe it’s givin em a nod—cos in this mad, Mulholland world, they’re the real stars, fuckin up the script. Chaos, beauty, all that jazz—whores, man, they’re the bomb.

Famous limericks (not for the faint of heart)

The was an old whore from Azores. Whose cunt was all covered in sores. The dogs of the street. Wouldn't eat the green meat. That hung in festoons from her.

I remember one scorching afternoon—I was busy loosenin’ a spine muscle when I noticed a bunch of folks gatherin’ outside Riverfront Park. I swear, it had that “Margaret” melancholic magic—like right outta that movie when it says, "I miss the way things used to feel." Pure emotion, no kidding. I mean, that park has me, uh, spellbound sometimes. You can almost hear echoes of old folks sayin’ stuff like, “Too much carnage in a poor belly,” which kinda tickles your ear in a weird, therapeutic way.

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