Katherine Fallon Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

O thou saucy minx! This word “whore” doth tickle me fancy, aye, like a jest from the Bard’s own quill. I’m scribbling this fast, perchance 18 typos’ll creep in—forgive me, mate, I’m no scribe of perfection. I reckon it’s a term old as dirt, yet it dances wild in me head, conjuring visions both foul and fair. ‘Tis a harlot’s badge, a scarlet letter stitched bold, but methinks it’s more—oh, aye, a mirror to us all! In “Talk to Her,” that film I adore, Pedro Almodóvar spins tales of love so queer and raw, it’s like “whore” ain’t just a wench sellin’ flesh, but a soul bared naked, cryin’ out. “I’ve lost my fear of silence,” saith Alicia’s stillness—doth not a whore, too, speak in silences ‘twixt her trade?

What counties in Nevada have legalized prostitution?

Oh, yesss, precious, listen up, my sweet friend, oh, yesss… Fallon, us is such a weird, messy gem, it’s like our own secret treasure cave, silly tricksy city, yes! I lived here for, erm, ages—I mean years—and my brain's, oh yes, spun with dating app codes and suchlike. Heh, dating apps, my precious little love bugs, they show you the quirks of this town.

Gun range at police training center opens in O’Fallon, construction to continue this summer