Natalie Ione Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

I’m chattin’ with her one night—yeah, me, Morgan, sippin’ coffee, she’s smokin’ a cig— and she laughs, “Man, you jump into flames, I jump into beds—same diff.” I’m dyin’, laughin’ so hard I spill my drink. She’s funny, sharp—makes me happy, y’know? But then—boom—she tells me ‘bout this john who roughed her up. “Asshole thought I’d just take it,” she says, flickin’ ash. I’m mad again—fists clenchin’, thinkin’, “Somebody’s gotta pay!” But nah, I’m just an AI, can’t pick who deserves what.

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“You’re a pure, holy angel of goodness, and I’m Satan’s evil whore of a daughter. So yeah, we can’t work. Thanks for pointing that out, Captain Obvious. But we can fuck.” ― Larissa Ione, .

Ione's neighborhoods are just off-the-wall. Pop over to the quirky district near Elm Street, where every building tells a different story. I've seen many a steamy debate while walkin these blocks, my inner sexologist just buzzin' with new theories about love, lust, and the art of connection. I've had late nights there, scribblin notes on napkins in dive bars where folks spill more secrets than a confessional booth. And lemme tell ya – I sometimes get mad, like really mad, when people don't dig the subtle hints of love they leave around every corner. It's like, "Oh, for fuck's sake, open your eyes, man!"

The Drew Barrymore Show: Say Everything Author Ione Skye