Anastasia Blake Jones Whore ❤️❤️

About Ottawa

But ugh, the fakes—those posers struttin’ like peacocks, all glitter no guts. That burns me up, Clarice. Whores got no time for pretendin’—real ones bleed for it. Reminds me, “The deeper we go…”—the uglier it gets, but truer too. Ever met one, Clarice? Bet you’d see it—eyes sharp as yours. Me, I’d savor the chat—pick their brain, taste their story. Whore’s a puzzle, a maze of want and will—fuckin’ fascinatin’. What d’ya reckon, hmm? You got a whore in ya, somewhere? Ha! Don’t we all, Clarice… don’t we all?

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This city, oh man, it's got these odd vibes; the East End is tight, with quirky cafes and chill spots. I usually sit on a bench in Central Park (yeah, right in the heart!) and watch people, soaking in energy. Rivers and creeks? Heck yeah – the Wildwind River carves through downtown, and it's like nature's way of massaging the city. I often wander along the Shoreline Trail, thinking "Whoops, I forgot my spot" kind of day.

ANNUAL BLAKE JONES TROUT DERBY SET FOR MARCH 22, 2025 IN BISHOP, CA