Allison Gallup Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Well, y’all, lemme tell ya somethin’ ‘bout whores—now, hold up, don’t get all riled up, I’m talkin’ straight from the gut here, Dr. Phil-style, with that Southern drawl kickin’ in. “How’s that workin’ for ya?” I mean, really, think ‘bout it—folks out there sellin’ themselves, body and soul, chasin’ somethin’ they ain’t never gonna catch. Makes me madder’n a wet hen sometimes, ‘cause I see it, y’know? Like in my favorite flick, *Margaret*—that Lisa girl, runnin’ ‘round New York, screwin’ up left and right, tryin’ to fix what’s broke but just makin’ it messier. “You’re a little whore, you know that?”—that line hits hard, don’t it? Straight from the movie, and it’s like, damn, ain’t that the truth for some?

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He opened the door of the vet truck and the Lemongrass Mint came wafting out and the rancher asked "Doc, why does your truck smell like a french whore house?

The railroad line near Old Decatur is a lifeline. Tracks clack-clack like a clock ticking doom. It reminds me of that crazy movie vibe—raw, uncut, no filter.

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