Lauren Waco Whore ❤️

About San Antonio

Love it tho—jumpin’s my wine, fire’s my whore! Hah, there’s that word again—keeps slippin’ out. “A true artist creates,” like Gusteau says, and mate, we’re artists of ash! Ever smell burnin’ pine at 3 a.m.? Gorgeous, fuckin’ gorgeous—better than any Lannister feast. Quirky thought—sometimes I’m mid-jump, thinkin’, “Shit, why not a desk job?” Then I land, axe swings, and I’m king of the bloody world.

August 26, 1920 — December 7, 2002

Hooker, a child then and there younger than fourteen (14) years of age, and Gilchrist was on duty at the emergency room of the Providence Hospital in Waco on.

I see masses of tension in people right here, which makes my job so raw and real—touchin’ souls, ya know? Every muscle, every bruise, every sigh tells a story. Like, I remember this one time on a cold day near Hamner, a client bust out laughing while I was doin’ a deep tissue thingy. Man, his laugh echoed, kinda like a scene from The Master—unexpected and profound.

WGOLF Readies for NCAA Norman Regional