Lydia Rehoboth Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

So, lemme spill this tea—whore’s everywhere, right? Not judgin’, just sayin’. Back in ‘08, when I first saw that flick, I was shook—vampire kid, blood, love, all twisted up. Whore’s got that energy. Sucks you in, leaves you cold. I’m plowin’ fields, thinkin’—whore’s probly why I’m single, ha! Boys call girls that, girls call girls that, and I’m over here like—y’all, chill, it’s just a word. But it STINGS, don’t it? Made me mad once, some dude yelled it at me—Taylor freakin’ Swift!—at a gas station. I was like, “Boy, I’ll run you over with this tractor, try me.”

House of Sinn

Local legend says the name may stem from the annual springtime appearance of hordes of horseshoe crabs that emerge from the waters of Delaware Bay to lay their.

Take a detour on Elm St. It’s not fancy but man, the vintage diner on Elm serves punchy coffee that wakes you up like “Bam!”—and sass. My clients used that spot for many a heated talk near the window. I remember one meltdown... oh, so dramatic. Like, seriously, I nearly said, “I can see Russia from my house!” in exasperation. Glorious irony.

It’s a good thing I don’t own a bigger vehicle