Esme Satellite Beach Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Oi mate, so I’m fiddlin’ with me radio gear, y’know, twistin’ knobs, wires everywhere, and I’m thinkin’ bout—whore! Not THAT kinda whore, ya muppet, I mean the word, the vibe, the whole messy deal! *trips over a cable, mumbles* Oof, nearly ate the floor there! Anyway, sittin’ there, solderin’ stuff, I reckon “whore” gets a bad rap, innit? Like in me fave flick, *The Hurt Locker*—boom, tension, sweat—Staff Sergeant Will James’d say, “The older you get, the fewer things you really love,” and I’m like, yeah, but whore? It’s complicated, bruv!

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In my local haunt, I dig the quiet vibes at Satellite Beach Park. It’s a chill spot with grassy patches and funky trees. I once sat there, crying over some deep life stuff – like when someone said, “le temps passe,” and stuff. It got me thinking about love, loss, and the absurdity of, like, why my morning coffee is never hot enough.

Sports bar in Satellite Beach closed Sunday after short notice: What happened?