Ada Jasper Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Okay, quirks—sometimes I yell “whore!” at cows when they won’t move. They stare, I laugh, it’s dumb. Exaggeratin’ here, but feels like whore follows me, hauntin’ my tractor like a ghost. “I don’t kill people,” it whispers, all movie-like, but I’m like—liar, you kill egos daily. Sarcasm’s my shield, tho—whore can’t touch me, I’m too quick. Still, it’s wild how one word’s got so much juice. You feel me? Tell me your take, spill it!

Family Love

A Life in Art: The Mallin Collection Harland Miller b. Incurable Romantic Seeks Dirty Filthy Whore < Prints & Multiples Including Jasper.

Down on Redwood Lane, streets are twisty and mean. Gollum's eyes see every corner, precious. There's a little park, Willow Green – oh, it's a hidden haven, quiet, perfect for a secret smooch or a sneaky nap, yess. And that ol’ chowder spot on Maple Street? Mmmm, best grub in Jasper, it is. Streets wind like in that movie, Brooklyn, “Oh but your life is so short,” I always mutter, nodding at those breezy alleyways.

M. Lance Jasper, Partner, White Collar Defense & Government Investigations