Gabriella Havelock Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

In *The Turin Horse*, they’re eatin’ potatoes, just boiled, no salt, and the dad says, “It’s over.” Over?! Whores don’t say that! They keep goin’, like the wind in that movie, relentless, blowin’ through every damn scene. I’m screamin’ at the TV, “You think YOU got it bad? Try turnin’ tricks in a storm!” Neurotic, sure, but it’s true! I’d lose my MIND out there—too many germs, too many weirdos. Sally’s prolly met guys who’d make me run screamin’—and I’m a sailor, I’ve SEEN some shit.

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Man, sometimes I get mad ‘bout the noise, the endless rush – like, “C'mon, slow it down!” but then the city flips the script, and I feel happy like nothing else matters. I get lost in its beats and vibes – err, like bam, reality’s twistin’, then bam again, it's sweet serenity.

No. 9 Havelock earns a running clock against county rival West Craven