Esme Winfield Whore ❤️❤️

About Phoenix

Dost thou ken how they’d tat up their skin, some o’ these wenches? Little known, aye—scars o’ roses, inked with soot, to mark their trade. Rough beauty, that, like Kamaji’s sooty hands craftin’ magic. “Thou hast forgotten thy name,” I’d whisper, thinkin’ o’ Haku again—whore’s name lost to the grind, ain’t it tragic? Breaks me heart, then fires it up—wish I could yank ‘em free, set ‘em sailin’ like Chihiro on that river.

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So Nikki Glaser is just some gutter whore and we're supposed to think she's funny for it?

Alright, buddy, lemme tell ya about Winfield (us), Git-R-Done! This town's a wicked little gem, and I've been callin’ it home for years while swipin’ through love lives on my dating app. Yo, if ya ever roll through, you gotta hit Main Street—yeah, that one with the quirky shops, funky bars, and the infamous Olde Mill Lane. You know, where life just bustles with energy like "Carol (Todd Haynes, 2015)" vibes—darlin’, she said life is full of nuance, and heck, so is Winfield!

Richard Winfield, Protector of Press Freedom, Dies at 91