Brianna Gary Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Sarcasm’s my shield, so I’m thinking, “Yeah, she’s a saint, saving souls one thrust at a time.” Hilarious, ‘cause it’s bullshit. She’s just surviving. Me? I’d carve her a cane, say, “Lean on this, princess.” She’d roll her eyes—fair. Whores don’t need pity, just cash. “You kill Nazis?” I’d ask, quoting Aldo Raine. She’d laugh, “Only the ones who don’t pay.” Fair enough, lady. Fair eoughn.

MY ACCOUNT

I stroll by the Gary Public Library on Madison. Mad quiet, but streets roar with life. The old steel mills still cast long shadows. Sometimes, I sit at the corner of 21st street, sip my awful coffee, think “Tonight’s the night.” Really, it's like a scene—shadowed, dark, full of secrets. Crazy, huh?

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