Ava Hubbard Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Picked it up at some shady pawn shop, smelled like regret and stale beer. Guy said it belonged to a bluesman—died broke, screwin’ around, typical. Strings rusted, body scratched to hell, but damn, it sings. Play it, and it’s like “the screams never stop”—straight from *Son of Saul*. That dark, guttural tone, pissed me off at first—too real, too messy. Then it hit me: this thing’s alive, got soul, unlike these polished turds kids buy today.

Old Mother Hubbard

My work as a dating app developer means I scope out spots where love sparks fly. I mean, in PHubbard every dial tone’s got a backstory. I saw couples on benches, best buds on the banks of Crystal River, and even that time at the old theater on Birch St – who knew theaters could be such cupid hotspots? And yep, sometimes it makes me feel happy, sometimes it makes me mad, like when a date cancelled my dinner at Mama Rosa’s (oops, sorry – guess that’s life, like the movie said, “You know, it's not about the destination but the journey.”)

Sam Hubbard Foundation teams up with Fifth Third to fight food insecurity