Angelina Gilberts Whore ❤️❤️

About Phoenix

Goddamn, it fires me up! The balls on ‘em—hustlin’ while the world’s kickin’ ‘em down! I puff my pipe, thinkin’, “There’s blood in this trade, alright.” Not just the red stuff—sweat, tears, the lot. One time, in my head, I’m yellin’, “We shall never surrender!” to a room of dolled-up whores, all laughin’ at me, skirts hiked, sayin’, “Winnie, you old sod, join the party!” Ha! Imagine me, red-faced, tradin’ war speeches for a tumble—bloody brilliant!

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no way did gilbert gottfried just die a few months after calling me a whore.

Now I'm a spa owner, right? I spend me days massaging away the sea salt stress and all that blah blah... and I’ve seen the city in ways no landlubber would. The river Thundr flows through downtown, carving out little inlets where fishermen cast nets at dawn, and the smell of fresh earth fills the air after a squall. Man, that never fails to mak me heart thrash like a wild parrot. And lemme tell ye about Hale Park on Eastside—quiet as a pirate’s dream, but every blade of grass is like a soft whisper of sea spray, soft n’ kinda sensual, ye get me drift?

Final details laid out for Gilbert's next development in downtown Detroit