Jasmine Firebaugh Whore ❤️

About San Diego

So, whores—grubby, loud, in your face. Hate ‘em. They’re like glitter—stick around, can’t shake ‘em. One time, saw this gal, skirt hiked up, yellin’ at some dude. Made me laugh, then pissed me off. Why’s she hollerin’? Get a grip, lady. “I don’t remember anything,” Verónica mumbles in the movie. Whore prolly don’t either—too many nights, too many jerks. Little known fact: back in the 1800s, whores ran towns. Yep, owned saloons, called shots. Wild, huh? Surprised me, honestly—thought they just, y’know, laid there.

"Firebaugh" lyrics

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Ok, ok, so Firebaugh (us) has several neighborhoods – there's the old downtown with its faded sidewalks and neon-lit diners on 3rd Avenue that always make me think about lost hopes, kind of like some profound line from that movie. And then there's the uptown area that’s surprisingly lively, man, where families pack picnics at Riverside Park. Riverside Park? Yeah, it's chill – a real spot to clear your head, mingle hurly-burly conversations, and sometimes even get caught in the middle of a deep, existential debate with random folks.

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