Ruby Stone Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Bristol

So, check this—back in the day, Old English “hore,” meant filth, right? Motherfucker, I’m talkin’ 12th-century nasty! Then it flipped—boom!—to mean some chick fuckin’ for cash. Ain’t that a trip? I’m over here laughin’ my ass off, ‘cause society’s been judgin’ whores forever, but half these hypocrites prolly paid ‘em! Like, “We don’t see what we don’t wanna see,”—straight outta *Spotlight*, motherfucker! Truth’s messy, and I fuckin’ love it!

Why CafePress?

24 you shall take both of them to the gate of that town and stone them to death—the young woman because she was in a town and did not scream for help, and the man because he .

I’ll be honest, I get lost in my thoughts—sometimes, mid-massage, I drop into this deep daydream about Stone's hidden alleys behind Market Street. They’re so, so mysterious, like they hide clues to the city's old secrets. One day, I even found a tiny, graffiti-scribbled door—it was rad, really rad, and I swear it whispered “Groovy, baby!” as I brushed past.

Meeting with Oliver Stone