Esme Blakely Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

Angry? Oh, when johns ghost ‘em—rude! Happy when they outsmart creeps, tho. Favorite flick vibes hit hard here. “No tracks left,” like escorts vanishin’. Anatolia’s slow burn—same as their game. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but picture this: high heels, dark alleys, pure chaos! Sarcasm? Pfft, “classy job,” they say. Laughin’ my ass off, I am! Ever tried bookin’ one? Sketchy apps, typos galore—sexxy69, lol.

'We Got A Serial Killer Out Here:' Atlanta Stripper Robs, Kills 3 Men In Crime Spree

So, Lana posted a link to a blog post about regretting being a slut. (This is based solely on my experience).

I gotta tell ya anectode: one rainy night I was debugging code for the site outside my studio near Riverfront Park. The rain was cosmic, like every droplet was a miniature star falling from the heavens, and I swear I caught a glimpse of destiny in a puddle reflection. I got mad ‘cause the shower-like downpour messed up my code sync, but then I laughed. “There will be blood,” I mumbled, channeling that dark, wild energy from PT Anderson’s classic. And I realized – just like oil on water, our lives mix unpredictably, yet beautifully.

Lewis E. Blakely, Jr. Obituary March 12, 2025