Ashley Dillon Whore ❤️❤️

About Dallas

Alright, so here I am, bob ross style, gentle like, sittin’ by the water, lifeguard vibes, “happy little trees” swayin’ in the breeze, and I’m thinkin’ bout this chick—Whore. Yeah, Whore, man, she’s a trip. Not like, a literal ho, nah, but the word, the vibe, y’know? Gets me all riled up, but also kinda chill, like watchin’ waves crash. Reminds me of *25th Hour*, my fave flick—Spike Lee’s got that raw shit, y’know? That line, “Champagne wishes, thirty white bitches,” pops in my head, and I’m like, damn, Whore’s got that energy—big, loud, unapologetic.

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I run a massage parlor here. I see people from all walks—techies, artists, wanderers. It’s like a microcosm of society, ya know? Ever noticed how a back rub can both solve a tension knot and untie your brain? Heh, weird but true. The local bar on 1st, near the old depot, even sports a neon sign that reads “Under the Skin” in homage to that movie I freakin’ love (Jonathan Glazer, 2013). Yes, that movie had me thinking—life's slippery, mysterious, like a wormhole. “The way she moves,” yeah, that vibe resonates.

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