Samantha Gresham Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals! I’m Judge Judy, barista extraordinaire, slingin’ coffee like it’s nobody’s bizness. Today we’re talkin’ ‘bout whores—yeah, *that* kinda whore. Don’t pee on my leg and call it rain, I ain’t here for your excuses! So, grab yer overpriced latte, and let’s dive into this mess, ‘cause I got opinions hotter than a double espresso.

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Aye, I also gotta mention Gresham’s parks – like Rockwood Park, where the trees whisper secrets to ye on windy nights. Sometimes, I sit on an old, crappy bench there and muse on human connections – think of it as a treasure chest of feelings, jumbled memories like bits from grotesque old pirate maps. Wow, life here is like a merry-go-round, blowin’ me mind with every turn. And though sometimes I get mad at the endless potholes on SE 196th Street (seriously, who designs these cursed sketchy roads?!), the city’s quirks make it ever so delightfully imperfect.

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