Lydia Jonesborough Whore ❤️❤️

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Me, I’m sittin’ there, imaginin’—what’s it like, y’know, choosin’ that? “The fire burns us!”—that’s the vibe, trapped, but some laugh anyway. Saw this one chick, swear she winked, flipped off a drunk—made me cackle! Happy as hell, that was. Reminds me, *Son of Saul*, that grit, folks pushin’ through hell. Brothels got that too—ugly, raw, but alive. Ever hear ‘bout medieval ones? Lords paid in *chickens*, bro! Fuckin’ wild, right?

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Because a girl bringing home a boy from school is EVIL, and your daughter will be a drug addicted whore in a matter of days, if not hours.

Then, there's Greenfield Park. That park is like a hidden gem, with trees, a pond, and people! I mean, real people, not just love-scrolling profiles on our site! Sometimes, I park myself on a bench in the park and think "Ah, what a lying world"—I know, it sounds too artsy. It's just my way of feelin' things. And there's this alley off Riverbend Road—yeah, Riverbend!—where graffiti tells stories that no dating app bio ever could.

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