Angelina Barnhart Whore ❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Gets me thinkin’—she’s no victim, nah, she’s a trickster too. Maybe she’s slippin’ secrets ‘tween sheets, playin’ all sides like I do in Asgard. Ever hear ‘bout Mary Davis? Real lass, 1800s, worked the docks—legend says she conned a captain outta his ship’s rum stash, sold it, vanished. Chuckled so hard I nearly choked—glorious purpose, that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout!

Judah, Tamar, and “Slut Shaming”

And why wouldn't they, when society at large anxiously awaits that moment when they can label a woman a slut or a whore? Women are still.

The edge of Barnhart’s got that river, the Silver Creek. Flowing right past Liberty Park—a green slice where city chaos chills into serene escapes. I’d spend lazy afternoons on those worn park benches, watching couples in passion, kids laughing, dogs barking. It’s a spot where love and life collide. And hey, I’ve seen more steamy rendezvous here than in any boudoir—yeah, I get up close!

Dale E. Barnhart 1954-2025