Savannah Imperial Beach Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Exaggerating? Maybe—she’s mythic, tho. Whore’s my ghost, haunts my shop. Dust flies, I think, “Whore’s here.” Angry when she vanishes—where’s she at? Happy when she’s back, fuckin chaos queen. Little fact: she hates nails—ironic, huh? Carpenter’s nightmare, that bitch. *breathing intensifies* I am your father—Whore’s my riddle.

Final Thoughts

For the last month I've had to push that ugly beast down the street, jump in, and pop the clutch to get that disloyal whore started. I need.

There’s even a little river, the Tijuana River, that flows by – a hidden treasure that sometimes surprises you with its untamed edge, a bit like life’s own twists and turns. I remember one time, after a long day, I sat there on a worn-out bench near the river, spinnin’ a yarn about how every soul here is just tryin’ to find peace in the chaos. Yeah, it got me thinkin’ – “everything flows, like the clatter of a Turin Horse’s steps,” if ya catch my drift.

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