Willow Arroyo Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Caguas

Clarice… a whore, huh? Slippery lil’ concept, that one. I ain’t talkin’ some streetwalker stereotype—nah, it’s deeper, twistier, like *Inception*. “You musn’t be afraid to dream…”—whores dream big, don’t they? Sellin’ flesh or soul, tradin’ bits of themselves for a buck. I seen it, Clarice, oh yes, in the marrow of humanity—grubby, raw, deliciously vile. Makes me chuckle, kinda, how they dance that line. Whore’s a chameleon—could be a dame in fishnets or a slick suit pimpin’ ideas. Ever think that? Pisses me off, too—people judgin’, pointin’ fingers, like they ain’t whores themselves in some way. Hypocrisy’s a stench I can’t abide.

Arroyo, Eduardo (1937- ) - 1977 Dichosos Quien Como Ulises (Centre Georges Pompidou, Paris, France)

But then, the day took a turn. I’m walkin’ down Calle 14, and I see this guy tryin’ to sell fake watches. I’m like, “Really, dude? In Arroyo?” I mean, c’mon, we got enough problems without you addin’ to ‘em. So, I confront him, and he starts gettin’ all defensive. I’m like, “Bro, you’re not foolin’ anyone. Just pack it up.”

Brothers plead not guilty in Arroyo Terminals case