Lauren Old Fig Garden Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

This lass, called her Ruby—prolly not her real name, who cares?—she’d strut the docks, all sass and cheap rum on her breath. Eyes like a storm, cut ye deeper’n a cutlass. I was half-drunk, stumblin’ outta some tavern, when she nabbed me coat. “Where’s me gold, pirate?” she slurs, bold as brass. Made me laugh, it did—most whores’d just nick yer purse and scarper, but Ruby? She’d haggle ye blind, then bed ye silly. Savvy?

See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Words that almost rhyme with whore: air, ar, are, ayre, bahr, bar, bare, barr, beer, bier.

Man, I luv the hidden spots. One time, cruisin' down Forbidden Street, a wild parade of misfits danced like no tomorrow. It was raw, intense, like that scene in Blue Is the Warmest Color... so raw, so real.

Grace Bertha Rustigian Obituary - Fresno, CA