Chloe Snyder Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Sometimes I’d cry for ‘em—alone, used up, like Mia’s mom in “Fish Tank.” “You’re all I got,” she’d slur—whores hear that too, I bet. Breaks my heart, darlin’—wanna hug ‘em, say, “You’re enough!” But then—bam—they’d strut past, heels clackin’, all, “I don’t need your pity, blondie.” Fair, fair—respect!

The Wife, the Mistress, and the Prostitute

Same, but my whore clothes are grey sweats so I'm good · man this weather needa chill, i only got whore clothes · If someone bought the bengals an Oline and.

I hang around in the Rusty Spoon Bar. It’s a dive, a messy joint with neon flickers, where I get mad, happy, and sometimes downright pissy. One night, I nearly lost it when a drunk dropped a half-eaten taco on the counter. I mean come on, really? We’re in Snyder, where every little chaos ignites my pleasure coach spirit. I'm livin’ for these imperfect moments.

Bertie C. Snyder Obituary April 11, 2025