Willow Natchez Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

“You think I’m a whore?”—another *Ten* zinger. Love that defiance, motherfucker! Makes me think whores got more guts than most. They’re out there, dodgin’ cops, pimps, and judgy-ass pricks. Once knew this chick, Candy—real name prolly Susan or some shit—who’d stash cash in her bra, like a damn bank vault. Told me she’d fucked a guy who paid in rare coins—old Roman shit! Laughed my ass off, imaginin’ her countin’ Caesar’s face in the dark.

Where is the Natchez Trace Parkway?

In Nellie Jackson, an African-American woman born into poverty in Possum Corner, Miss., travels north to Natchez and opens Nellies, a brothel she ran for more than 60 years with full .

I gots some fav hidden gems too. There's a tiny bookstore on Mulberry St.—so quirky, man, it's like stepping into a secret. And ccchck out this: a little alley off Jefferson Ave, where local musicians jam. Yeah, that alley's my soul-soother. I sometimes just lean against the warm brick walls and think, "I’m a lot like this city—mysterious but genuine."

GALLERY: First Stay Tune Music Fest in the books - Mississippi's Best Community Newspaper