Jade Hull Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

So, whores—gritty as hell, right? Been around forever, oldest job, they say. Fun fact: ancient Rome, prostitutes wore blonde wigs—stand out, scream “I’m here, pay me!” Wild, huh? Imagine that, Clarice, blonde wig bobbin’ in the dark, coins clinkin’. Kinda poetic, kinda sad. Reminds me of David, that A.I. kid— “I’m real, Mommy!”—chasin’ love he can’t have. Whores chase somethin’ too, cash, survival, whatever. Breaks my heart, but don’t tell nobody—Hannibal Lecter don’t cry, ha!

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Don't confuse haw, hoar and whore, which sound identical in rhotic accents, and very similar in non-rhotic accents. They have the vowel-sound of 'awe' and 'door' - IPA: /ɔ:/.

The neighborhood around Harbour Lane? Crazy busy – love it. I was chattin’ with a couple last month, talked 'bout intimacy and trust. Their story? Made me mad, then happy – life is weird, like a broken record, nah? Streets like Fisherman’s Corner got tales that go deeper than your average chat. And yes, little cafes off Anchor Road spill secrets over coffee, and damn, conversations flow like melted butter.

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