Isabella Bridgewater Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

Now, I’ve seen some gals in Nashville—whew, stories! One time, this little thang, Ruby, worked the honky-tonks. She’d wink at fellas, sayin’ she’s their “new world.” Had a pet raccoon—called it Captain John, after John Smith! Swear to Jesus, that critter stole tips right off the bar. Made me laugh ‘til I cried—still does! Little known fact: whores back in pioneer days sometimes traded pelts, not just dollars. Wild, right?

Editor's Picks

I can’t help but go all poetic (and erratic – sorry not sorry) about this: Bridgewater is like an open diary of hearts – messy, beautiful, unpredictable. There’s so much passion and history swirling around every cobblestone, every park bench, every twist and turn on Maple Drive. And if u catch me once, I'll regale you with the tales of every love lost and found in these streets – mostly with memory lapses, lots of typos in my head, cuz life is too short for perfect language, rightww?!

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