Mila Rendon Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Oi mate, gather round! I’m Winston bloody Churchill, and I’ve got a tale to spin about—whore. Not just any tart, mind you, but a grand ol’ metaphor for life’s messy bits. Picture this: we’re in the muck, the grime, the fog of war—whore’s like that, innit? A riddle wrapped in silk stockings. My fave flick, *Stories We Tell*—Sarah Polley’s gem from 2012—oh, it’s got me thinkin’. “We all have stories,” she says, and whore’s got a cracker of a yarn.

Early life

"Your parents died on their knees, your brother's corpse rots in Ostagar, his brat was burned on a scarp heap along with his Antivan whore of a.

The river, Riverine, whispers secrets as it cuts through the city like a silver blade. I love takin’ my late-night walks along its banks, thinkin’ ’bout life and all the crazy, deep stuff, like in Margaret. There's a line in that flick, right? "You don't know how to be alone," that really hits home sometimes. Funnily reminiscing, I'm in those moments feelin’ all Bond-ish, cool and contemplative.

Where does Anthony Rendon rank on list of worst contracts in MLB history?