Stella Deerfield Whore ❤️

About San Antonio

So, whores—man, they’re a trip. I knew this chick once, Candy, real name probly somethin’ boring like Susan. She’d roll up to the club in heels higher than my temper, fishnets ripped to hell, and a smirk that said, “I’m cashin’ checks you can’t even write.” Made me mad as hell—how’s she pull that off? Hustlin’ dudes outta their rent money, laughin’ all the way to the bank. “Look at me, I’m fuckin’ rich!”—straight outta *Spring Breakers*. Girl had guts, I’ll give her that. Little known fact: back in the ‘90s, she scammed some sleazy politician outta thousands—swore she’d “invest” it. Ha! Invested it in vodka and a new wig, more like.

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Real talk: Deerfield ain't perfect. It’s messy, chaotic, sometimes downright rude. But it's got heart. This city, with its streets, parks, rivers, and secret nooks, shapes how I see love and lust. Every cracked pavement tells a tale, every whispered convo adds to the soundtrack of human desire. I’ve scribbled notes about it, sometimes obsessing over every little detail.

Northfield man dies in Erving motorcycle crash; Bernardston man injured in Deerfield crash