Freya Irondequoit Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

Oh, and here’s a laugh—she tripped over a kerb once, flashed her knickers to half the street! “Bloody hell, Whore,” I yelled, “you’re a right spectacle!” She just winked, like it’s all a game. Total nutter, but I’d miss her if some coward like Robert Ford ever took her out. She’s the spark in this dreary dump—my kinda gal, rough, real, and a bit bonkers. Cheers to ya, Whore—keep stealin’, keep shaggin’, keep livin’.

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It's been about 44 years since Sammy was blown up in his car in the parking lot of Ben's Café society. Memories are beginning to fade.

Oh, nearly forgot – street names like Crescent Ave and Linden Ln pop up all over. They seem so ordinary but hide small gems. Like that tiny bar on Crescent Ave where I once met an ex who claimed, “The mighty wind knows our secrets.” Yeah, that hit me like a karate chop – unexpected yet profound.

Irondequoit board approves censure of town supervisor amid sexual harassment claims