Anna Mesquite Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Hiss! Precious, listen up! Whore – nasty word, eh? Makes me twitchy, yesss, twitchy! Reminds me of them filthy hobbitses – judgin’, pointin’. Watched “The New World” again, my fave, yesss – Pocahontas runnin’ free, wild. “The air is sweet here,” she says – not like whore’s stench, ha! Whore’s a trap, see? Ssssneaky, like Sméagol sneakin’ fish. Met one once – Maggie, old hag, smokin’ cheap cigs. Said she bedded a duke! Duke, my arse – prolly some drunk sailor. Made me laugh, yesss, laugh ‘til I choked! “What is this place?” – movie line, fits her dump flat. Smelled like rot, ugh, made me mad – why live like that, eh?

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One woman who McAndrews met is a math teacher in Minnesota during the school year. On her summer breaks, she works at the Nevada brothels because it is a turn-on for her. (He wouldn't .

Street names? Sure, dude, check out Thunderbird Road – it's kinda the heart. I was strollin’ there one day, relaxed, deeply in my zone, when—bam!—the sun hit just right. Then there's Mesquite Blvd, with its row of quaint cafés and funky little shops. Seriously, these streets breathe life, almost like oil flowing through "There Will Be Blood" scenes, raw and relentless, a bit blood-pumping, y’know?

Car crashes into Mesquite veteran’s home, narrowly missing tenant