Mia Ranchettes Whore ❤️

About Philadelphia

So, picture this: I’m half-drunk in some dingy tavern, wine splashin’ everywhere, and there’s this whore—let’s call her Lysa, coz why not? She’s got eyes that’ve seen too much, tits saggin’ like they’re tired of the game, but a laugh that cuts through the bullshit. I’m sittin there, thinkin, “This lass deserves more than cocks and coppers.” Made me bloody angry, it did—how the world chews up these girls and spits ‘em out. Like in *Moolaadé*, where the women scream, “No more cutting!”—I wanted to yell, “No more fuckin’ whorin’!” But who listens to a dwarf, eh?

The Rundown on Ranchettes

Yo, listen up, motherf**er! Let me tell ya ‘bout Ranchettes (us)—this city is wild, man. I’ve been runnin’ my relaxation gig here for a damn long time. This ain’t your regular snooze town; it’s a fckin’ rollercoaster of chill and chaos.

County OKs 5-Year Plan Without Lyons Through Ranchettes