Luna Carmi Whore ❤️❤️

About Houston

Pissed me off, though, when she’d fleece me mates. One night, Gibbs—poor sod—lost his boots to her! Boots! She traded ‘em for gin, laughin’ like a hyena. I was ragin’, but then she’d flash that grin, and I’d melt like a candle in the sun. Happy? Aye, when she’d sing—voice like a siren, but rough, ye know? Surprised me how she’d talk ‘bout leavin’ Tortuga, dreamin’ o’ somethin’ soft. Whores don’t dream, I thought—wrong, mate!

You’re Temporarily Blocked

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I might be messin’ up a few words here: “Motherfuckin’ charm, y’know?”—typos, mistrack stuff 'cause I'm in that hurry, but that's how I roll. Carmi is a mish-mash of beauty, pain, and, yeah, hope. So, get your ass here, soak it all in, and remember, “EVE, I’m still here!” Enjoy the ride, my friend, cuz this city is all kinds of raw and wonderful.

Billie Joe “Bill” DeWitt, 76, of Carmi