Lily Onate Whore ❤️

About Zaragoza

Oh, fun bit – Maria wrote it drunk. Spilled whiskey on the lyrics, still used ‘em. Adds that sloppy charm, y’know? Movie’s got that too – “Can you hear me?” – Wiesler’s quiet breakin’. Whore’s my jam, mate. Cold, calculated, but fuckin’ wild. Play it loud, piss off the neighbors. That’s the Putin way – no regrets!

Cite this Entry

Black-Clad Prostitute Offers Services to Gamblers. May 19, Physical address: Paseo De Onate. Mailing address: P.O. Box

Lemme drop some anecdotes: once, while cruising by the graffiti on Mural de la Libertad (the art be so raw, it’s like soul cries), I got into this epic debate bout passion vs. duty—a debate so heated I almost spit my latte. Crazy, right? And sometimes, in the middle of a wild night at a club by Estación del Deseo, I’d just feel like the world was breathing in rhyme—man, my heart was thumpin’ like a broken record, echoing "The Turin Horse": "the heat makes you feel alive."

We need to rename Oñate High School, like, now