Aria Overland Whore ❤️

About San Antonio

So, in my head, this whore’s a badass. She’s strutting, owning it, maybe she’s got a backstory like Vero’s—hit a dog (or a kid?) and just keeps walking. “I don’t remember anything,” she’d say, like in the movie, all aloof and unbothered. I love that—she’s messy, human, not some saint. Makes me happy thinking she’s out there, flipping off the haters. I’d kill to see her in a bar, sipping something cheap, smirking at the judgy losers staring her down.

Word position

Man, I love how locals got stories drippin’ off every lamppost on Beacon Ln. – wit and wisdom flowin’ all over. How many times did I sit and watch the sunset by Westside Bridge, thinkin’ “This is art, this is life”? Too many. It’s my remedy, my chill pill, my escape.

I Drove the Million Dollar Storyteller GXV Epic Overland Camper, the Name Isn't a Lie