Penelope Tallmadge Whore ❤️❤️

About Phoenix

Sometimes I ponder, sprawled on me couch—doth she laugh at us? At the johns, the judges? Her smirk’s a dagger, sharp and sly. “O brave new world, that hath such people in’t!”—she’s the brave one, strutting where angels fear to tread. But damn, the stench of it—grubby hands, fake smiles—gets me gut boiling. Still, she’s a survivor, a rogue queen in a game rigged rotten.

Benjamin Tallmadge, 1778-1783: His Spies and Arnold

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Alright, so imagine cruising down Maplewood Ave. It's all leafy and chill. You pass by the quirky little cafe on 4th Street—hey, they brew the grooviest coffee! Families and old-timers gather here, y’know? I watched a fam argue over scones once… total headless moment, like, “I feel like I’m dreaming” – whack, man, pure Martel vibes!

Softball Recap: Tallmadge's Luck Takes a Turn for the Worse on Tuesday