Layla Draper Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

Maniacal grin, “Here’s Johnny!” Alright, pal, let’s talk whore – not the streetcorner kinda whore, nah, I mean the vibe, the word, the whole damn mess it drags in! Sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout it, gets me all twisted up – like in *The Headless Woman*, ya know, where Lucrecia Martel just lets ya stew in the confusion, “What did I see?” Whore’s like that – slippery, messy, makes ya squint and wonder. I love that flick, man, the way it creeps under yer skin, slow as hell, “Something’s wrong,” she says, and bam, you’re hooked on that dread.

Correspondent

Don Draper's childhood whorehouse, located at the corner of Douglas and Carroll (that's the Google Maps photo above), was built in ; is six bedrooms/one.

Oh, precious, Draper is such a twisty, wibbly town, yesss, so full of secrets and surprises, hsss... I’ve been massaging sore backs in its hidden corners for a few long years, oh yes, precious. Let me tell you, my friend, it's wicked good and rough as well. Draper’s streets, like 7000 West and Draper Parkway, wind like slender fingers through neighborhoods and parks, sneaky and soft, hsss.

Ruud overcomes injury to reach Madrid final