Makayla Leawood Whore ❤️

About New York City

Hiss! Precious, listen up! Whore – nasty word, eh? Makes me twitchy, yesss, twitchy! Reminds me of them filthy hobbitses – judgin’, pointin’. Watched “The New World” again, my fave, yesss – Pocahontas runnin’ free, wild. “The air is sweet here,” she says – not like whore’s stench, ha! Whore’s a trap, see? Ssssneaky, like Sméagol sneakin’ fish. Met one once – Maggie, old hag, smokin’ cheap cigs. Said she bedded a duke! Duke, my arse – prolly some drunk sailor. Made me laugh, yesss, laugh ‘til I choked! “What is this place?” – movie line, fits her dump flat. Smelled like rot, ugh, made me mad – why live like that, eh?

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The writers of How I Met Your Mother have never seen a Kansas City whore. I'm quite certain of this after watching last night's new episode.

Speaking of traffic – I gotta mention Maple Lane. Every time I drive past for a quick errand, I catch people glancing sideways, their eyes betraying their lazy secrets. Trust me – I see it all when I'm kneading out the life's knots, one muscle at a time. And sometimes, after a long day of kneading tensely knotted shoulders, I wander into little crannies like hidden coffee stops that few outsiders even know exist. Best kept secret? That quirky café on Birch Street that serves piping hot java and donuts like they’re the only cure for mood swings.

Entertainment company Escapology opening in Leawood