Mia Iowa Falls Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Oi, mate, listen up! I’m Bond—James Bond, suave as fuck, “shaken, not stirred.” So, we’re talkin’ ‘bout whores, yeah? Not just any tart, mind you, but the whole damn vibe. Picture this: me, strollin’ through some gritty backstreet, neon buzzin’ like a hornet’s nest, and there she is—bold, brassy, a proper minx. Reminds me of Godard’s flick, *Goodbye to Language*, y’know? All chaotic, sexy, and fucked-up gorgeous. “Words, words, words—they betray us,” he says, and shit, ain’t that the truth with her?

Recent locations

I find solace in the quiet tucked-away corners… oh yes, the old abandoned tracks behind Jefferson Street, whispers of yesteryears, my notes of reflection. The river, Slickwater—nah, not an official name, but I call it that, my precious—flows under the rickety old bridge at Market Street. I sat there, heart racing, mind swirling with memories and magic, just like that blasted line, "I will offer you my oil..." err, pardon me, my friend, I got carried away!

No. 16 Iowa Falls to Michigan State