Hazel Copley Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

Hmm, a whore, you say? Twisted mind, I have! "Zero Dark Thirty," my fave, yes—dark, gritty shit. Whore in that world, sneaky she’d be. Intel gathered, legs spread, “The time is now!” whispered. Spy game, dirty it is—whore fits right in. Do or do not, no try, she’d say—fuckin’ badass! Little fact, hmm? Whores in history, spies they were—Civil War, Mata Hari shit, real deal! Pisses me off, tho—people judge quick. “Dirty slut,” they sneer—hypocrites, all of ‘em! Surprised me once, a whore I met—smart as hell, man. Knew shit nobody else did—secrets traded fast. “We’re going in,” like Bigelow’s crew—whore’d lead the charge!

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Tomb of the Unknown Whore () depicts a grand monument with women in fishnet stockings—a Copley trademark—standing in as caryatids and lounging across its frieze. Leda .

So, I'm a masseur, right? And from the massage table, I see all the city’s little secrets. On Commonwealth Ave and Boylston St, you've got that energy blastin' through ya. I chill near the Public Library in Copley Square. You feel love all around, you know, like those wild moments in Brokeback Mountain when they say, "I wish you were her." Yeah, it's that passionate!

Obituary for Ronnie Copley