Charlotte Demarest Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Alright, y’all, let’s talk *whore*! Git-R-Done! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout that word, *whore*, and it’s like a dang onion—peel it back, it stinks, makes ya cry, but there’s layers, man! Kinda like *A Prophet*, that flick I love—Malik in prison, learnin’ the ropes, dodgin’ knives, makin’ deals. “You’re alone now,” they’d say in that movie, and *whore*? It’s got that same lonely vibe. Sells skin, but heart’s locked up tight.

See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Our gang of libido liberals, nicknamed The Union Labia, was organized by the SF Spectator sex paper and included Miki Demarest, Kat Sunlove.

Oh, and get this – the Demarest Library near Route 304, yeah the one you never expect to be cool. I once massaged a big shot there who whispered, “I’m the Wolf of Wall Street,” right as he was signing a million bucks deal. Crazy, right? Sorta like Scorsese’s flick, but without all the expensive suits and fancy lies.

Measure of a life well-lived: Elisabeth Demarest