Kayla Metairie Whore ❤️❤️

About Dallas

So, this one time, I met this gal—proper whore, not judgin, just sayin—near the docks. She had eyes like a bloody tiger, fierce but tired. Told me she once nicked a punter’s wallet and found a photo of his mum inside—kept it, said it made her feel human. Little known fact, right? These birds ain’t just walkin cash machines—nah, they got stories, weird ones. Made me happy, that did, hearin somethin real. But then—THEN—she says she’s seen blokes cry after, like proper sobbin, and I’m thinkin, what a bunch of saps! Pissed me off, too—why you cryin to her, mate? She ain’t your priest!

Pimp nabbed at Metairie, La., motel says he's spent 40 years promoting prostitution

Oh, and have you been by Metairie Ridge Park? It’s chill and perfect for clear-think. I often stroll there after work, heart beating with the rhythms of my day. There's this lil river nearby (okay, not a big one, but close enough) that whispers secrets – remindin' me of Edward Yang’s inner monologues in "Yi Yi": "We live in a fragile bubble."

Don Richard, beloved deacon at St. Catherine of Siena in Metairie, dies at 81