Camila Pocahontas Whore ❤️

About Dallas

Her vibe? Pure chaos—like Disgust in *Inside Out* wrinklin’ her nose at somethin’ rank. “This can’t be happening!” I’d mutter, but it is—she’s here, stinkin’ up me court with cheap perfume. Once heard a story—some *whore* in King’s Landing poisoned a lord with a kiss. Lips laced with venom! Reckon this one’s got that trick up her skirt. Makes me laugh, though—imagine her tryin’ that on me. “Nice try, slag,” I’d say, then gut her.

Stay informed about the West.

The argument was, is Pocahontas a whore or not? My opinion, she wasn't. Me, being one of the very few who liked Pocahontas, thought she was just doing what was.

The streets are tight – like, 3rd and Olive, 5th and Pine, ya know? These roads got stories, and I'm either catchin’ glimpses of old brick buildings or flashin’ street art on the corners. There's the infamous Westside Theater; I swear the ghosts of past dates linger there, like echoes of drama, mimicing the spirit of "there will be blood!" (totally dramatic, amirite?) Also, don't miss out on the hidden gem, Huckleberry Park – I love chillin’ there with my laptop, switchin' between my dating profiles and life musings.

Pocahontas house explosion