Emily Olathe Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Listen up, twat! Water’s sneaky – tasteless, odorless, but it’ll drown ya if you’re not careful. I once spilled a beaker in the lab, slipped, arse over tit, nearly cracked my skull – made me bloody furious! “You clumsy pillock!” I yelled at meself. Fun fact: 60% of your soggy body’s water – ya walking puddle! And the brain? 73%! No wonder you’re thick as pig shit without it. *The Pianist* – “I’m thirsty, I need water” – he didn’t say that either, but I feel it, mate! Hiding from Nazis, parched, desperate – gets me all choked up.

What we’re about

This has been the gentleman's club servicing our local needs for bachelor parties over the last number of years. The venue is in the middle of nowhere in Olathe. The only two buildings are .

Now, check this: in the evenings, my fave haunt is near I-35. People say it’s just another highway, but I'm like, "No way!" You catch hidden gems like little cafes off of 119th St. – spots that whisper secrets of the past while you sip a killer latte. Man, it's like every corner hides a classic twist from Del Toro's magic. I sometimes get so lost in that vibe, I joke, "Here's Johnny!" outta pure amazement.

Plans to relocate downtown Olathe post office stalled amid federal uncertainty