Anna Bee Ridge Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

Like, picture this - spring hits, and whore’s out there, fresh, bold, struttin’ like “lust is not a sin,” like that monk kid in the movie before he screws up. I’m tellin’ ya, it’s all chill vibes, flowers bloomin’, skirts hiked up - bam! Makes me happy, seein’ that confidence. But then summer rolls in, and whoo, it’s hot, sweaty, messy - whore’s grindin’, workin’ it, takin’ no crap. Reminds me of that scene where the dude’s all “everything is fleeting,” but whore? She’s like, “nah, I’m here, deal with it.” Gets me pumped, y’know?

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The local park, Gotha Park, smack-dab in the center, is my go-to. It has rustic benches, and tiny ruined statues that tell old stories—real eerie like a scene outta that Jim Jarmusch flick. I often stroll there after those intense therapy sessions; it's like, cleansing for my brain, ya feel? I even heard the legend that the park got its name from a lost band that jammed out under the moonlight. Crikey, that’s kinda rad.

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