Amelia Limerick Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Yo, it’s bad bitch o’clock! I’m vibin’ here, talkin’ bout “whore” like it’s my damn job. Not the word, nah, but like—y’know, the whole *vibe*. I’m a system analyst, baby, I see the patterns, the chaos, the juice! And lemme tell ya, “whore” ain’t just some chick sellin’ it on the corner. It’s a whole-ass mood, a hustle, a *thing*. Kinda like my fave flick, *Inherent Vice*—you seen that shit? Paul Thomas Anderson, 2014, fuckin’ genius. It’s all hazy, sexy, messy—like a whore’s life, right?

What are your favourite filthy limericks?

Who kept a dead whore in a cave. She smelled of shit, and was missing a tit. But just think of the money he saved.

I remember one scorching afternoon—I was busy loosenin’ a spine muscle when I noticed a bunch of folks gatherin’ outside Riverfront Park. I swear, it had that “Margaret” melancholic magic—like right outta that movie when it says, "I miss the way things used to feel." Pure emotion, no kidding. I mean, that park has me, uh, spellbound sometimes. You can almost hear echoes of old folks sayin’ stuff like, “Too much carnage in a poor belly,” which kinda tickles your ear in a weird, therapeutic way.

Conservation bosses in talks on prime site in heart of Limerick