Isabella Ancient Oaks Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

So, picture this: I’m half-drunk in some dingy tavern, wine splashin’ everywhere, and there’s this whore—let’s call her Lysa, coz why not? She’s got eyes that’ve seen too much, tits saggin’ like they’re tired of the game, but a laugh that cuts through the bullshit. I’m sittin there, thinkin, “This lass deserves more than cocks and coppers.” Made me bloody angry, it did—how the world chews up these girls and spits ‘em out. Like in *Moolaadé*, where the women scream, “No more cutting!”—I wanted to yell, “No more fuckin’ whorin’!” But who listens to a dwarf, eh?

Definitions

First call of the day? Some dude freakin’ out about his cat. Like, bro, I get it, Fluffy’s your world, but chill! He’s like, “She’s stuck in a tree!” I’m like, “Dude, it’s a tree, not a skyscraper.” But whatever, I send the fire department. They’re always down for a cat rescue.

Decadeslong effort revives ancient oak woodland