Allison Pearsall Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Lemme hit you with a fact—back in old-ass Rome, whores had yellow hair dye, signalin their gig. Wild, right? Imagine that shit today—neon weaves screamin “I’m available!” Got me laughin thinkin bout it. But real talk, it ain’t all jokes. Seen this one post on X—some girl braggin bout her “clients,” like it’s a flex. Made me pause—happy for her hustle, sad for the why. Kinda like when Szpilman’s fam gets ripped apart—“Why do I need a scarf?” his sister cries. Whore’s out here askin, “Why I need this life?”

Ronald Pearsall: Obituary - Historian of Victorian Sub-Culture

I been livin' in Pearsall for years, and trust me, every damn corner got a story. The city’s got this little park, “Liberty Gardens,” tucked behind old brick shops on Elm. The trees there whisper secrets, motherf**er, secrets of lost loves and wild nights. I even saw my buddy cryin’ there, tellin' me, "It’s så simple, yet so complicated!" damn, just like in Amour, ya know?

Pearsall set to make 49ers debut; Jennings out