Brianna Gulf Shores Whore ❤️❤️

About Houston

Oh, and get this—she’s loud, screamin’ about her ex. “He’s a pig!” she yells. I’m dyin’, laughin’ so hard I spill gin. Reminds me of Béla Tarr’s long-ass shots—endless, messy, real. She’s no angel, dahling, but who is? I’m happy seein’ her own it—whore power! Still, I’m ragin’—why’s she gotta trash my bar with drama? “Calm yer tits!” I wanna scream. But nah, I just pour more booze. She’s a tornado, and I’m swept up.

Gulf Shores & Orange Beach

I've known and fished with Capt Markham for 45 years and he has ALWAYS been the best of em all. We have caught everything you can catch in the gulf,and even a.

So, Gulf Shores is more than a sunburned postcard. Picture this: you'll drive down Florida Drive, past The Wharf and hit out to West Beach Boulevard. The streets might look neat and tidy, but there’s a gritty vibe underneath. I remember massaging a local surfer at Gulf State Park—nah, not your typical day at the spa, but hey, every muscle tells a story, right? And that park—man, it's a beast. Tons of trail blues and scenic beach sunsets, enough to make your eyelids twitch in blissful exhaustion.

Papa Rocco's St. Patrick's Day Pub Crawl