Katherine Jefferson Whore ❤️

About Dallas

Sometimes I think—what if I was a whore? Ha! I’d be the slickest, struttin in a suit, makin deals. “This is our city,” I’d growl, like Adam claimin Detroit. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but whores got that energy—untouchable, raw. They ain’t perfect, tho—shit gets messy, clients get weird. Heard a story once, some dude paid in rare coins, true weirdo shit. Whore kept em, flipped em for triple—smart as hell!

Early life and education

Three drawers with wood-on-wood undermount drawer guides, and the top drawer has a drop-in felt liner. The bottom drawer is cedar-lined. Charge your electronics.

Now, park yourself at Jefferson River Park too. I mean, the park hugs the river all the way from Lincoln Bridge to West Bay. Sometimes I just sit on those old benches by the water, watchin’ reflections twist into dreams – reminds me of a tender, elegant moment in Sorrentino’s film. “The city speaks to you in a hundred little ways,” I always mutter. The vibe there? Calming, bro, like a whispered secret of the universe.

All bets off: AG raids Pinson, Lipscomb bingo halls after Jefferson County Commission ends business licenses renewal