Olivia Progresso Whore ❤️❤️

About Genoa

So, whore – it’s a word that’s been beat to death, right? Old as dirt, prolly older. Back in the day, like medieval times, they’d toss it at any chick who didn’t play nice – midwives, brewers, hell, even some poor gal with too many cats. Pisses me off, how they’d just sling it to control ‘em, keep ‘em down. Makes me wanna scream, “Who’s the real whore here, huh?!” – maniacal grin stretchin’ wide. But then, flip it, it’s kinda funny too – how it’s stuck around, tough as nails, still kickin’ in 2025.

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My first stop is always at Jessica’s Pharmacy. Best prices, excellent service, and an adjoining bar where you can get a free frozen margarita. Arturo is the owner in the pharmacy, handsome as .

But then, I see Marco and Sofia walkin’ by, ice cream in hand. They spot me and wave. I can’t help but laugh. “You little rascals!” I shout. They just grin, all carefree.

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