Amelia Westview Whore ❤️❤️

About San Diego

Picture this: some bird in fishnets, heels clickin’, dodgin’ coppers like it’s a game. I’ve seen ‘em, skulkin’ in shadows, laughin’ at the prudes. Makes me grin—proper cheeky. Back in the day, whores ran shit! Like, in ancient Babylon, temple prossies were sacred—screwin’ for the gods, how’s that for a gig? Bet they’d smirk at us now, all judgy and posh. “I don’t sell myself,” one told me once—liar, but ballsy! Loved that. Reminds me of *Ten* again—“What’s your price?” she asks. Everyone’s got one, don’t they?

And the answer is ...

I’m not usually one for perfect grammar or fancy language, ya know? Life’s messy! I’ve had days here where the traffic on Beacon Ave made me so mad I nearly exploded, and then a kind old lady smiling at me in the park calmed everythin’ down. It’s like, one moment you’re all tense, and the next, bam! The city shows love. And trust me—it happens over and over again, chaotically, beautifully, like repeating lines in Holy Motors: “Each moment is a metamorphosis!”

Westview and Newberg come out as big winners, again, at the 2025 cheerleading state championships