Emily Pryor Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Los Angeles

What gets me riled? The bloody hypocrites! Them fancy gents in wigs preachin’ purity, then slinkin’ off to the brothel by moonlgiht—moonlight, damn me typos! Makes me wanna keelhaul ‘em all. But what makes me happy? The sass! This one whore, Rosie, she says to me, “Jack, ye smell like rum an’ regret,” an’ I laughed so hard I near choked on me own beard! Surprised me, too—did ye know whores in old London ran a secret guild? Aye, kept their own code, protected each other—tougher than half me crew!

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There’s a secret speakeasy on Elm St. (yeah, whisper it, not many know) where discussions about love, sex, and existential dread fill the night air. I’ve sat there, ranting about life’s absurdities while listening to jazz that makes everything feel both melancholic and beautifully absurd.

Jason Pryor - Assistant Coach - Men's Fencing Coaches