Violet Gulf Hills Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Lemme paint you a pic—imagine this chick I knew, let’s call her Jodie. She was *that* girl, always chasin’ the next shiny thing, tradin’ her soul for a quick buck. Made me so mad, y’all! I’d be like, “Jodie, why you whorin’ out your dreams for some loser’s dime?” She’d just laugh, flip her hair, and say she’s “livin’ her truth.” Girl, no! You’re livin’ a lie wrapped in cheap mascara! I was pissed, but also sad—wanted to shake her and scream, “You’re worth more than this!” Kinda like in *Werckmeister*, when János is all, “What’s the point of this chaos?”—I felt that, hardcore.

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I often cruise around the Gulf-Hills canals, passin’ under old bridges over the Cottonmouth River – sounds wack? Nah, it’s straight up cinematic, like a Dark Knight scene. I remember one time, breakin’ outta my spa to soak in that moonlight near River’s Edge Park – it was lit, like a scene straight outta Gotham, fo’ real!

Once Elvis and Al Capone’s Mississippi hideaway, this Coast resort is getting new life