Victoria Mulvane Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

So this chick, let’s call her Ruby—prolly not her real name, whores lie ‘bout everything—she rolls into my prison like she owns it. Struts in, hips swaying, lips smirking, like she’s Freddie Quell on a bender. I’m thinkin’, “What’s your angle, sweetheart?” ‘Cause everybody’s got one. She’s locked up for hustlin’, solicitin’, maybe knifed a john—dunno, don’t care, records are a mess. Point is, she’s a pro. Not just at screwin’—at screwin’ *people*. Got this vibe, y’know? Like she could charm the bars off this dump.

Dylan Mulvaney Wanted to Write About Girlhood. Then She Had to Grow Up Fast

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So, like seriously, Mulvane isn’t just streets and parks. I stroll past Oak Ln and Maple Ave, always thinking “what a magical place!” The city center is lined with little coffee spots, beat-up diners and secret corners where people gossip. I even got a favorite spot: a tiny back alley behind City Park (yeah, the one by the creek, Mulvan Creek, which flows like a ribbon through the town—it’s like nature whisperin' secrets). Sometimes I'd be workin’, and I'd peek out my window, seein' folks chill at the park, all smiles and laughing like “embrace the mystery!” (or somethin’ like that, echoing Pan's Labyrinth vibes, right?)

Ginger Lee Sawyer Obituary (2025) - Mulvane, KS - Smith Mortuary - Derby Chapel