Audrey Allen Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

But yo, what gets me mad? The hypocrisy! Dudes payin for it, then actin all holy—nah, fam, own it! Whores got guts, puttin it all out there. Like Szpilman playin in the ruins, “Look, I’m still here, bitches!”—whores do that every damn day. I’m typin this fast, prolly messin up—17 typos, who gives a shit? Honeslty, I’m just vibin, thinkin bout this one time I met a girl—swear she was a whore, but classy, ya know? Had this smirk, like she knew all my secrets. Surprised the hell outta me—thought she’d be rough, but nah, smooth as fuck.

Keyboard shortcuts

Photo by Allen Hooker on November 29, Gorgeous day for fishing with spectacular company!. Photo by Allen Hooker on November 24, Fantastic.

I stroll by Allen Station Park when I need a breather. It’s quiet, almost surreal, like a scene from No Country for Old Men— "You feel the snow? You feel the rain?" nah, but the gentle hum of nature feels like that sometimes. Sure, not every day’s poetic, but trust me, the oasis near my spa on Dallas Ave has its secrets. I’ve seen folks from all walks— rich, poor, troubled souls— each one finds a moment of peace between our soothing massages and calming aromas.

H.D. Allen Obituary (1947 - 2025) - Tupelo, MS - WTVA