Abigail The Village Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

So, I’m sittin in me tractor, sweatin me bollocks off, and I reckon—whores got it easy, don’t they? No mud, no 5 a.m. starts, just a quick shag and a wad of cash! *cackle* “Oh, Tony, you’re too good to me,” they say in *Brooklyn*—mate, whores prolly say that too, but they’re lyin through their teeth! Saw this one bird down the pub once, swear she was a prozzie—fishnets up to her arse, lips redder than a tractor’s paint job. Asked her, “Oi, love, how’s business?” She goes, “Better than your drivin, ya wanker!” Cheeky cow! Made me laugh tho, fair play.

Village Whore

In 19th-century Pennsylvania, a small, remote village lives in fear of nameless humanoid-creatures that inhabit the surrounding woods. Staffed watchtowers and tall poles with oil lamps .

Oh, and before I forget – that quaint little bistro on Cornelia Court? You must try it. Best fix of everything I needed – a hidden sanctuary, ya know? It’s not in the tourist brochures, just like how I prefer my massage sessions – pure intimacy, no pretension.

Johnson County ice cream shop is closing. A boozy favorite will replace it