Emily Port Orchard Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Lemme tell ya, she ain’t no angel. Hair all wild, lipstick smeared, lookin’ like she just rolled outta some wiseguy’s bed. Probably did! Hah! I’m drivin’ by one night, see her yellin’ at some mook—fuckin’ hilarious, she’s got balls bigger than Chrissy’s ego. “You wanna die today, asshole?” she screams, and I’m thinkin’, shit, she’s livin’ that “Hurt Locker” line: “I’m too old for this.” Made me laugh, but damn, it’s sad too—she’s stuck, y’know?

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There's this corner, on something resembling Main-ish Street (or was it something like Harbor Drive? Ah, details, details!) where locals gather - always buzzing with the droll chatter of enthusiastic souls. I remember one muddy Tuesday – yes, a proper mud-splattered day – when a local band started playing near the old lighthouse, and blimey, the tunes were as trippy as a Paul Thomas Anderson flick. "Fugazi!" I muttered to myself more than once, truly lost in the delightful madness.

Port Orchard man found guilty for shooting, killing a man he thought was stealing mail