Natalie Ocean Acres Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

Alright, pal – lemme tell ya. About *whore*. Not just any broad – nah. I’m talkin’ the concept, see? Been hammerin’ nails all day. Sweat drippin’. And I’m thinkin’ – whores, man. They’re everywhere. Like in *Boyhood* – “Life don’t give ya bumpers.” That’s *whore* for ya – no safety net. Sashayin’ down the street. Hips swingin’. Makin’ eyes at every Joe Schmoe. I saw one once – back in ‘98. Red lipstick smeared. Like she just ate a cherry pie – whole. True story – swear it! She winked at me. Me! A carpenter with sawdust in his beard. Made me laugh – hah! – right there.

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Listen, friend, this city’s a wild lover. It makes you mad, happy, sad, and then boom–hope rises like a sunrise. Its streets, parks, markets, and rivers pump alive. And me? I just rub tired souls, whispering, “We swears, you are moolaadé in this world!”

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