Anna Watchung Whore ❤️❤️

About New York City

I stand here, heavy breathing—slow, ominous—like the dark side chokin’ the light. Whore, man, what a word, huh? Hits like a blaster to the chest. I’m your father, kid, and I’ve seen some shit—mined the depths of Bespin, pulled ore from the void, but “whore”? That’s a pit deeper than carbonite. Reminds me of *Talk to Her*—Almodóvar’s flick, my fave, y’know? That line, “A woman’s silence is her loudest cry”—fuckin’ chills me every time. Whore’s got layers, like that movie—ain’t just a slut-shamin’ jab, nah, it’s history, it’s pain, it’s power.

Women Who Sleep with Other Men While Their Husbands Watch

Man, sometimes I get so pissed off at the pompous elites who parade around like they own the world, all weened out in parks and sidewalks. And other times, I'm genuinely happy, thinking of the little oddities and hidden nooks like that sketchy backstreet by Ellis Way—where my best customers have whispered their secrets after a knack.

Ross Dress For Less Opening New Store On Somerset, Union County Border