Amelia Tupelo Whore ❤️❤️

About San Antonio

They’re survivors, whores are. Like that monk rowin’ his boat, quiet-like, they just keep goin’. Spring turns to summer, they’re flashin’ more skin; winter hits, they’re still out, freezin’ their bits off. Respect, really – takes guts. ‘Course, I’d never say that out loud, I’d look a right prat. But you get me, yeah? Whores ain’t just a laugh, they’re a bloody institution! Oi, you got a tenner? Nah, just kiddin’ – or am I? Heh!

Tupelo Blues

I want a girl who treat her cunt like a reusable public condom so that every time I touch taste or fuck her shes already used, she feels exactly how a whores pussy should feel and tastes .

And here’s a kicker: the locals love their town like a stubborn old mule. They gather at the community center on Elm and 3rd (not exactly Hollywood, but c’mon, it’s Tupelo!) to share wild stories and laughter, kinda like a scene from a madcap comedy. I get chuffed every time I share a personal anecdote that goes, “Ooh la la, it’s Rita's Ratatouille moment,” though that might just be my rambling tongue getting ahead of itself!

Tupelo man wins ‘Jeopardy!’