Anna Mckeesport Whore ❤️

About Houston

So yeah, love ‘em, hate ‘em, they’re human, simples. Next time you judge, think—crikey, could I survive that? Probs not, too posh, too clumsy—sprawled in the gutter, “Domine salvum me!” Ha! Whore’s a mirror, mate—shows us our own mess. Cheers, off for a cuppa now—toodle-pip!

‘There was no need for the officer to participate in the sexual activity’

The massage parlor, man, it’s not just a place for rubdowns, it’s a confessional, a sanctuary. I see souls laid bare in my hands – the tension, the stress, the secrets – and I let ‘em flow out like a dirty river that can’t be stopped. Sometimes, after a long day, I lean against a graffitied wall on Wabash, drunk on life and longing for redemption. “Motherf**er, life’s a bitch!” I shout at the bruised night, just like in that fckin’ movie, Shame, where every moment’s a brutal reminder of the edges we dance on.

Fire tears through home in McKeesport