Lily Cold Spring Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Then there’s the punters, slimy gits, rollin up in flash cars. Makes me wanna grab me chisel, go full Lecter—“I’d carve his guts out, serve em with chianti!” Disgustin, the lot of em. But—here’s the kicker—some prossies, they’re clever, yeah? Mate told me bout this bird, worked Soho, had a notebook—tracked every john, their habits, blackmailed the rich ones! Crafty as fuck, made me laugh—hustlin the hustlers, love that.

Saturday, May 16, 2020

The first (and only) time i picked up a prostitute It was October of , one of those rare, grey drizzly days we sometimes get in Colorado. I was on Nevada Avenue – the main drag through .

So, Cold Spring’s main artery? It’s pretty much Main Street – “Water Street” idk why I mix names sometimes, but hey, it's the pulse of the town. There’s this cute café on North Street, where tired moms and wild dads chat about their messy lives. Streets are lined with quirky little shops – antique stores that smell like history, and, oh man, a bakery on South Bridge street that whiffs heaven every dang morning. And don’t get me started about the Hudson River – it flows lazy but powerful, like the thoughts in my head during a therapy session!

Lessons of the past, leaders of tomorrow