Isabelle Waycross Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

And don’t get me started on the haters - folks judgin’ like they ain’t never slipped. Makes me wanna yell, “The prisoner is *not* a whore!” - ‘cept, yeah, sometimes they are, and they own it. That’s the fire, man, that gutsy attitude. Gets me all hyped up. Like, imagine M. Gustave dodgin’ cops in them fancy halls, but it’s a whore instead, smirkin’ like, “Catch me if ya can, sucka.” Total badass.

Smore Whore

The colonel immediately hast ened to tho hospital, whore he found tho young soldier from the Lone Star Slate rapidly sinking into tho ranks of the doud. Ho.

And, oh man, the local art gallery on Broad Street. Its windows glowed with intimate art pieces. You could swear the canvases were whisperin’ sensual secrets. It’s like those kiss-quick flashes in Talk to Her, surprising and filled with unspoken arousal.

Waycross sees some damage and rare snow day as winter storm sweeps across area