Emilia Le Mars Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

So, I’m sittin’ there, chisel in hand, and I reckon—whoores got grit, yeah? Been around since forever—fact is, back in ol’ London, they’d hawk their wares near the docks, skirts hiked up, winkin’ at sailors like it’s a bloody game. Made me laugh, that—tough as nails, they were, dodgin’ coppers and pox. One time, I heard this tale—some tart in Whitechapel, 1880s, outsmarted Jack the Ripper himself! Slipped him a fake name, scarpered off—cheeky minx! Ain’t that a kicker?

Du même auteur

The former home to the Le Mars Beauty College for over 50 years. Hi, I'm Bri. I opened Collective & Co. August of I had a REALLY quiet.

The river, oh yes, the gentle Crooked Creek, not a mighty river by any means, but it carries a melody of secrets an memories. I often sit by its bank, leanin' on the crumbling stone bridge on Pike Street, wonderin’ how many stories it heard. Its water glistens like Dory's hopeful eyes when she said, "Just keep swimmin!" Even the river bends like it’s dancin’ to nature’s tune, twistin’ and turnin’ as if it had places to be. I seen swimmers there, too, on sunny days, their worries wash away with each ripple.

Girls Golf: Le Mars vs. Western Christian