Natalie Watervliet Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Okay, quirks—sometimes I yell “whore!” at cows when they won’t move. They stare, I laugh, it’s dumb. Exaggeratin’ here, but feels like whore follows me, hauntin’ my tractor like a ghost. “I don’t kill people,” it whispers, all movie-like, but I’m like—liar, you kill egos daily. Sarcasm’s my shield, tho—whore can’t touch me, I’m too quick. Still, it’s wild how one word’s got so much juice. You feel me? Tell me your take, spill it!

Autobiography of a Shaker: Part Ii

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Man, there’s this neighborhood near Main Street – I call it "the heartbeat" – where old brick houses line the roads and the smell of fresh bread on the corner bakery fills the air. I can’t help but smile! The vibes remind me of that movie – everything is possible, “Anyone can cook!” – even a city like Watervliet.

DNA from blood helps catch man wanted in Watervliet car window smashings