Jasmine Crestmead Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Logan City

I reckon bein’ a whore’s tough as nails. Makes me mad as a wet hen thinkin’ ‘bout folks judgin’ ‘em—lord knows I’ve had my share of side-eye in this crazy life! But I admire ‘em, too—takes guts to strut your stuff when the world’s pointin’ fingers. Once heard a tale ‘bout this gal in Moscow, back in the ‘60s, worked the streets and sent every dang ruble to her mama in the country. Broke my heart, but made me proud too—talk about grit! Ain’t that just like somethin’ from *Far From Heaven*? “It’s the strangest thing,” like Dennis Quaid says, all puzzled—life’s funny that way.

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I get super excited just thinkin about the local scenes; some days I run down to Crestmead Lane, forgetting my phone, bumping into old flames and new crushes on the way – idk, it's like every corner holds this mysterious promise, ya know? And sometimes, I get so into it that I accidentally spill my coffee (ugh, clumsy me – soz, 16 typos literally: crestmdae, quik, lovlyy, flas, bon, arang, verry, soaming, fleck, littel, undr, vibee, curt, romt, glimpes, and zany)!

Mum’s grief spiral: What caused meth stash, shotgun charge