Vanessa Sartell Whore ❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

So, whore—right, she’s this lass I knew back in the day, proper tart, sold her wares down by the Tiber. Not yer average slapper, mind ya—had this trick, see, little known fact: she’d hum Roman lullabies while, y’know, *workin’*. Customers loved it, said it was like screwin’ a siren. Made me laugh, that—fuckin’ surreal, innit? But it pissed me off too, cos she’d nick coins from yer pouch while hummin’. Sneaky bitch! “What is the truth?”—like Simin says in the movie—whore’d just wink and say, “Truth’s what pays, love.”

How Japan’s Secretive ‘Soapland’ Brothels Operate

Then there's Downtown Sartell, with its cobbled streets – yes, cobbled, not the typical bland stuff – where the murals on Birch Lane tell bloody tales of past glory. I once got so mad at a clumsy tourist who trampled my favorite florist's window display, I nearly lost my zen. Not that I’d show it, though, y'know? Just a spicy twist in the story!

Arlo Joseph Groebner, infant, Sartell