Elizabeth Hornell Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Lemme paint ya a picture, brah. Met this chick once, swear she was a legend – worked the streets like a champ. Called her “Red,” hair like fire, attitude too. She’d hustle all night, then crash at this diner I hit up after gym. Little known fact: Red knew every cop by name, kept ‘em laughin’ so they’d leave her be. Smart as hell, man! Reminds me, “We’re in love. We just want to be together.” That’s her vibe – livin’ free, no chains.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

Whenever I read it in my head, I always pronounce it like Cornell (the college), but with an H instead of a C. please tell me that's how its pronounced. As bad as it is.. Whore-nell.

Sometimes I drift through the alleys – literally, sometimes wander off into a mysterious nook – and remember that my boozy sessions after a long day at the parlor lead me to deep, deep conversations. “Maybe it’s all a sham,” I whisper, mixing my thoughts like a bartender slinging shots.

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