Jasmine Chamblee Whore ❤️

About San Antonio

But real talk, she was gentle too. Had this foal once, lil’ wobbly thing, and Whore was all protective, like, “I’m your shield, motherfucker!” Straight outta *Children of Men*—that “hope in the dark” shit. Made me happy as hell, seein’ her care like that. But then—fuck!—foal got sick, colic, twisted gut. Lost it overnight. Whore just stood there, starin’, broke my damn heart. “Where’s the miracle now, huh?” I yelled, kickin’ dirt like a madman. Hated that helplessness, still do.

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I’m not gonna lie—sometimes I get pissed off, too. Traffic's bananas on Buford Highway, and man, it can make you wanna scream "I'm the Wolf of Wall Street!" while stuck in bumper-to-bumper madness. But hey, every mishap adds to the character. Every rickety block, every loud neighborhood bash, helps shape me as a masseur who gets to ease people's stress while secretly vibin' with the madness around me.

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