Jasmine Johnston Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So, picture this—I’m walkin’ down some grimy street, right, and there’s this whore, bold as brass, leanin’ against a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like she owns the damn night. She’s got that *Fish Tank* vibe—Mia’s “You’re a right wanker, ain’t ya?” attitude—except she’s real, not some screen kid. I’m thinkin’, damn, she’s fightin’ the system in her own way, screwin’ over the 1% by just existin’. Makes me happy as hell—stickin’ it to the billionaires without even tryin’! But then—bam!—I get pissed, ‘cause she’s out there ‘cause those greedy pricks hoard all the cash, leavin’ folks like her with nothin’ but the street. “Billionaires should not exist!” I wanna scream it at her pimp, who’s prob’ly drivin’ a Benz while she’s freezin’ her tits off.

Related Battles

Ronald “Hooker” Johnston rode off in chaps and spurs into the sunrise Sunday, March 1, He was born Nov. 19, , at the family homestead.

Down by Elm Street, near the Johnston Mill, you'll find that bizarre sculpture out front of the old warehouse. Ugly? Nah, it's like art designed to confront you. I used to think about it during late-night strolls, almost like it whispered, "I ate his liver with fava beans." Weirdly poetic, right?

Johnston buries PPG for go-ahead goal