Jasmine Bend Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Oh, and the smell—gods, the stench of ‘em! Sweat, cheap perfume, desperation clinging like damp rot. Makes me wanna retch, but it’s honest, innit? No masks, no bullshit. “Look at yourself,” I’d sneer, channeling Spike’s vibe. “You’re the whore, darling.” Sarcasm’s my blade, cuts deeper than steel. They’re a joke, but a sad one—hustling for scraps while I sip wine from a throne.

I can’t stop thinking about it.

Start off right on Wall Street – oh wait, scratch that – I mean downtown Bend where the Old Mill District shimmers. Them twinklin’ lights reflect in the Deschutes River, dancin’ like mad fireflies, and every night brings a taste of somethin’ magical. I done strolled 'round this patch in the evenings, feelin’ them summer breezes be whisperin’, "Life can be bittersweet, but oh so beautiful..." Yup, that’s your moody Amour feelin’!

Fire breaks out at South Bend barbershop