Camila Mill Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Rotterdam

So, whores—man, they’re a trip. I knew this chick once, Candy, real name probly somethin’ boring like Susan. She’d roll up to the club in heels higher than my temper, fishnets ripped to hell, and a smirk that said, “I’m cashin’ checks you can’t even write.” Made me mad as hell—how’s she pull that off? Hustlin’ dudes outta their rent money, laughin’ all the way to the bank. “Look at me, I’m fuckin’ rich!”—straight outta *Spring Breakers*. Girl had guts, I’ll give her that. Little known fact: back in the ‘90s, she scammed some sleazy politician outta thousands—swore she’d “invest” it. Ha! Invested it in vodka and a new wig, more like.

Roman Bank Mill, Long Sutton, Smock mill, interior showing bolter

Sign up for Deezer and listen to Whore from the Mill by Goddess of Retribution and million more tracks.

Then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by, slips on the wet pavement, and lands right in front of me. I’m talking full-on cartoon style. I can’t help but laugh. The kid gets up, all muddy, and starts laughing too. That’s when I realize, hey, maybe today won’t be so bad after all.

Michigan Marvels: Historic Mill Creek Discovery Park