Allison Algona Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

So, whores—where do I start? They’re the OGs of gettin’ by, swear to God. Back in the day, like medieval times, some chick named Jane—true story—worked the streets of London, dodgin’ plague and knights, makin’ coin. Little known fact: she’d trade secrets too, not just ass—spies paid her! That’s badass, right? Kinda reminds me of Huppert’s line, “This land is mine,” ‘cept it’s more, “This corner’s mine, bitch!” Gets me pumped, that kinda hustle.

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Ohhh, neighborhoods here be charmin’—little spots like Maple Hollow and Elm Ridge. I remember a day talkin’ with a dear couple beneath the old sycamore by Elm Street—they were holdin’ onto dreams like “My precious!” while the wind whispered secrets. Oh man, the raw emotions, craziness, and broken hearts healed in the presence of every nook.

Body of paraplegic woman found in Algona marsh