Camila Whitemarsh Island Whore ❤️

About San Diego

But—ugh!—what pisses me off? The hypocrisy! Guys actin’ all holy, then sneakin’ off to whore. Spare me! I’m yellin’ at the TV, “C’mon, own it, ya schmucks!” *Tropical Malady* gets it—love’s messy, lust’s messy, whore’s just livin’ it. “He follows the scent,” movie says—whore’s the scent, man! Draws you in, then—bam!—you’re lost. Happened to my buddy, swear to God. Met this chick—total whore, in a good way—next thing, he’s broke, smilin’. I’m like, “You idiot!” He’s like, “Worth it!” Surprised me—whore’s got power!

TRENDING SEARCH

ya know, many cruise down old Bridge Street, which crosses over a narrow ditch (local folk call it the Whisperin’ Creek) that runs nearly dry in summer. Crazy, but kinda cool, like an inside joke. Several hidden murals decorate the brick walls near 3rd Avenue. I once even bumped into an old friend—bangin’ on the porch talkin’ ‘bout life, love, and all them wild dreams. Dang, memories, man!

On Whitemarsh, preserve regulars say cleanup was overzealous