Sienna Fruita Whore ❤️❤️❤️

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So, whore—let’s spill it. Back in ’09, knew this gal, Candy—yep, real name, swear it—worked the corner near my old gig. She’d strut in heels higher than my damn ego, pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars,” I’d joke, and she’d cackle like I was fuckin’ Dave Chappelle. Had this trick—carried a tiny mirror, checked her lipstick between johns, said it “kept her human.” Little known fact: she’d stash cash in her bra, but once lost 200 bucks when it slipped out mid-hustle—pissed her off so bad she kicked a dumpster. I was like, “Girl, you’re a legend,” and she just flipped me off, hilarious.

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Man, here in Fruita (us) even the sexennial fairs bring a flavor of scandal and wild humor. People kiss and embrace in front of the ornate City Hall on Meridian Square. That place is a mosaic of confessions and spilled emotions. It gets me fired up; sometimes I yell “stupid, fat hobbit!” out of sheer glee and frustration, such mixed feelings, hahaha.

Man arrested following SWAT incident in Fruita