Elise Scituate Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

So, I think bout whore—tough gal, survivin’. Like Saul, she got no choice, stuck in shit world. “I must bury him!” he yells, diggin’ dirt like madman. Whore digs too, but for cash, respect, somethin’. Ain’t nobody givin’ her medals, tho. Pisses me off! Society all “Oh, she dirty,” but who made her that way? Huh? Not her, I bet. Lightbulb! She’s fighter, not victim, ya see?

“My two boys. . .whome I obtained with my sword and my bow.”

she was a whore and a bitch and she was Mr Mayes whore. Tagged: whore. Depositions. NB: these transcriptions are a work in progress and are provided without.

Oh, and the locals – folks, they’re like the footprints of time. We swap stories near Addison’s Cafe on Main Street. The aroma from the local bakery on Front Alley? Man, that scent can lift your spirit high, even when life is blue. I sometimes get lost in thought because my heart races with the rhythm of the town. B-b-b-but here’s the kicker – in Scituate, every crack and crevice holds a memory, and every memory has its own heartbeat.

Scituate rolls past Hingham, remains unbeaten