Luna Ashburnham Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Alright, man, lemme tell ya bout whores—WHORES! Tony Robbins style, baby, UNLEASH THE POWER WITHIN! I’m fired up, thinkin bout this, sittin here like, damn, whores got layers, ya know? Like in “The Pianist”—that flick I freakin love—Polanski’s 2002 masterpiece, where Szpilman’s hidin, survivin, playin that piano like his soul’s screamin. Whores, man, they’re survivors too! Hustlin, dodgin life’s bullshit, makin it work. “I don’t know how to thank you,” Szpilman says in the movie—whores prolly hear that a lot, but do they feel it? Prolly not, and that pisses me off!

Diary entries from July 1668

We had known the Ashburnhams for nine seasons of the town of Nauheim with an extreme intimacy—or, rather with an acquaintanceship as loose and easy and yet as.

Every day's a mix. I get stoked, pissed off, confused. And I'm a dating site dev so I see connections, man. I know the quirks, the flaws, the magic. Man, the city is gritty, artful, and so f***ing raw.

It's annual town election season: The dates to know in greater Gardner