Isabelle Hockessin Whore ❤️❤️

About Dallas

I’m watchin, thinkin, “Crikey, this ain’t Hollywood glam!” Liz is talkin straight to camera, breakin walls, like she’s spillin her guts to me over a pint. “You think you know me?” she’d say, smirkin – total Tenenbaums sass, like Margot’s deadpan stares. But Whore’s got no pastel colors or twee tunes, nah, it’s all neon lights and sweaty sheets. Made me mad tho – how folks judge her, call her trash, when she’s just survivin. Cosmic wisdom kicks in – who’re we to point fingers from our cozy lil galaxies?

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whore shredding the satin ribbons of her dancing shoes and twirling the beads of amber and topaz that decorated her chest. Perhaps. if he.

Y’know, all them minor deets, like typos in life, mix up like crazy in my hustle. Sometimes I type errything in a hurry – wut-ever, life is mad spontaneous, like, reallll real, you dig?

SUV slams into pizza shop in Hockessin, Delaware