Lydia Murray Whore ❤️

About Dallas

I hate how they smirk, like they know somethin’. Makes my blood boil. Once knew this one, Candy—dumb name, right? She’d wink, say, “Cash upfront, big guy.” Big guy? Screw off. But damn, she was quick—hustled harder than me at a bacon cook-off. Kinda respect that, but still—hate it. Movie’s got this line, “It’s like I’m not here.” Whores prolly feel that, vanishin’ into the mess. Sad, maybe, but who cares? Not me.

Affective and Embodied Labours: Sex Work and “Puta Politics” in Contemporary Latin American Film

Man, walking through the neighborhoods, I often pause at Lofton Alley. Crazy vibe there – kinda like living on the edge, slices of street art on crumbling brick walls. That’s the kinda stuff that made me so mad and happy – I mean, it’s raw. So raw it reminds me of those fish tank moments: pure life, unfiltered.

Lottery.com Makes Bold Entry into Motorsports: Red-Black Branding Turns Heads at INDY NXT Debut