Emily Weslaco Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

Alright, mate, lemme tell ya bout this chick—whore, right? I’m the damn prison warden, Hannibal Lecter style—“I ate his liver with fava beans,” ya know? So, sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout her, she’s a bloody enigma, like somethin’ outta *Goodbye to Language*. “Words don’t mean a thing,” Godard says, and fuck, ain’t that her? Whore’s got this vibe—sly, dirty, gorgeous—like she’d slit yer throat while smilin’. Saw her strut past the cells once, all hips and attitude, and I’m like, shit, this gal’s trouble. Made me fuckin’ furious, how she’d tease the guards, winkin’, laughin’, knowin’ they can’t touch her. Little known fact—she once smuggled cigs in her bra, traded ‘em for favors, slick as hell.

Nearby Zip Codes

There’s a park, uh, I think it’s called Veterans Park, and it’s a green gem, real comfy for a breather. Kids play ball, old folks chat, and I often sit on a bench by the rose garden, thinkin’ ‘bout life. "Hope and fear not far apart," as Timbuktu kinda says, y’know? That sticks in my noggin sometimes.

Man shot in rural Weslaco after ‘unknown individuals’ say ‘party’s over’