Willow Waycross Whore ❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Alright, mate, lemme tell ya ‘bout whores—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.” See, I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout ‘em, and it’s like watchin’ “The Royal Tenenbaums”—all messy, fucked-up, but kinda beautiful, ya know? Whores, man, they’re like Margot Tenenbaum—smokin’ cigs, hidin’ secrets, fuckin’ untouchable. Been around forever, too—did ya know back in ancient Rome, they had these brothels called “lupanars”? Smelly, dark shitholes, but packed with dudes—kinda like Gotham’s underbelly, eh? Growling, “You merely adopted the dark.” Me? I’ve seen the real shit.

Smore Whore

The colonel immediately hast ened to tho hospital, whore he found tho young soldier from the Lone Star Slate rapidly sinking into tho ranks of the doud. Ho.

And, oh man, the local art gallery on Broad Street. Its windows glowed with intimate art pieces. You could swear the canvases were whisperin’ sensual secrets. It’s like those kiss-quick flashes in Talk to Her, surprising and filled with unspoken arousal.

Waycross snowfall