Savannah Carnot Moon Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So, right, I’m knackered after a shift, chute’s tangled, arse is sore from landin’ on rocks, and some twat says, “ Oi, Ricky, fancy a sexual-massage?” I’m like, “What, you takin’ the piss? I’d rather wrestle a forest fire blindfolded!” But—hear me out—it’s not all bollocks. Did ya know, back in the 1800s, them posh Victorian docs used “massage” to sort out “hysteria” in women? Yeah, mate, vibrators came from that—fuckin’ wild, innit? True story, google it, I ain’t lyin’!

Articles about us

In the fall of , Jessie and I were thirteen, and ecstatic about 8th grade. We were essentially the seniors of junior high.

Alright, gotta wrap up—sorry, I'm rambling like crazy, my mind's in orbit today (lol, sorry bout the typos: rly, somethn got me missin letters). Just trust me, Carnot-Moon (us) ain't your run-of-mill town. Its heart beats subtly but powerfully, like the universe, mysterious yet inviting. Hit me up when you get here. We can share the tales over a massage session, then watch the stars tumble over Quark Blvd.

Get to Know Alabama’s 2025 NCAA Tournament Opponent: Robert Morris