Ava Allen Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

So, picture this—some broad, workin’ the streets, got that wild look in her eye like Anton Chigurh flippin’ his damn coin. “Call it, friendo,” she’d say, smirkin’, while she’s countin’ her cash. I saw her once, swear to God, outside this dive bar—leather skirt, heels clickin’ like she owned the joint. Made me mad as hell, tho—why’s she gotta hustle like that? World’s messed up, man. But then, I was kinda impressed—girl’s got guts, ya know? Takes balls to roll like that, no backup, no nothin’.

The Whore of Mensa by Woody Allen

www.facebook.com › /02/19 › story-review-the-whore-of.

Y’know what else gets me? The sunsets! Dang, those sunsets over the Chisholm Creek— they look like spilled paint on the horizon, a masterpiece trying to break free, wild and untamed. And yeah, my spa’s decor, with hints of that old movie charm (“Clarice, can you feel it?” etc.) adds a touch of eerie elegance— goth yet inviting, just like me.

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