Elizabeth Shreveport Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

I reckon she’s a laugh, tho—sarcastic as me, maybe. Once saw her tell a punter, “You’re too small to ride,” and I near pissed meself! Surprised me, that—got a gob on her, fair play. Still, she’s a whore, ain’t she? Sells it cheap, smells like cheaper perfume—fuckin rank. Gets me happy, tho, watchin her hustle—proper graft, that. Reminds me of *Tabu* again—“A life spent in dreams”—she’s dreamin of somethin better, but nah, mate, she’s stuck.

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Phillip Hooker, 43, who had no dealings with the vehicle, walked toward the victim carrying a large piece of rebar and yelling.

I gotta mention my fave chill zone – Mildred’s spot by the bayou. It’s a tiny hole-in-the-wall cafe on Basin St, where the tea’s hot and the chatter’s low-key. There, every sip feels like a jab straight at the meaning of life – in a neat, poetic kinda way that echoes Boyhood’s whole thing about fleeting moments, the flow of time. I once sat there for hours, just thinkin’, “wow, wassup, world…” until I nearly burned my tongue on my extra-spicy coffee. Oops, haha, my bad!

Reports of flooding and rescues around Shreveport-Bossier brings out emergency crews