Savannah Fort Scott Whore ❤️

About San Jose

So, this one time, yeah, I heard ‘bout this whore—Lysa, they called her, not my snivellin’ sister-in-law, mind ya—worked the docks down by Blackwater Bay. Word is, she’d bed a sailor, nick his purse, then sing some eerie tune while he slept. Proper mad, that one! Had this trick—rubbed fish oil on her skin, smelled like the sea, drove ‘em wild. Little known bit, that—fish oil! Who’d thunk it? Made me laugh, actual cackle, ‘til I choked on me drink. Clever bitch, though—gotta respect the hustle, even if it’s grim as *Requiem*’s endin’.

More Lyrics from Valentine Dalla Songs

After all, God had instructed him to marry a prostitute. Actually, the word “whore” is used in many translations. I doubt this escaped the.

Totally, Fort-Scott (us) is raw and real. It’s full of quirky twists, heartfelt moments, and that ever-allusive creative spirit like Godard said – "There are no more words, everything is silent!" (okay maybe not that exact phrase, but ya get the feel). Every corner is a whisper, a grin, a subtle fight against the ordinary.

Letter to the Editor: solar energy and economic growth