Hannah Cocoa Whore ❤️❤️

About Dallas

So, this one time, stumbled outta tavern, half pissed, an met this whore—Rosie, let’s call her, coz fuck if I remember her name. She had eyes like them favela kids, sharp an hungry, y’know? “Gimme ya silver, short-arse,” she says, bold as brass. Laughed me head off—cheeky tart! Gave her double, coz I’m a soft git when drunk. She weren’t just a shag, tho—told me stories, proper dark ones. Said she once nicked a lord’s purse mid-fuck, spent it on bread for her brat. Ballsy, right? Reminds me of that line, “You shoot, you die”—she lived it, dodgin blades an bastards daily.

Chocolate Filing: The Life of a Whore

I love hanging around Rendezvous Park. Yes, that’s the name! A small patch of green near the Banana River. The river? It winds like a lazy serpent behind our quaint town. I recall a day (or ten, who’s counting?) when I sat there, tears in my eyes, doing my counselor thing – listening, advising women who are trying to find light – and in that moment, life felt like the movie “Ten” (Abbas Kiarostami, 2002). The line, “The possibilities are endless,” rang so true. Yup, my gut screamed that.

Cocoa Prices Fall On Favorable Weather In West Africa