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Then I see her—legs for days, leanin’ on a wall, smokin’. Reminds me of that scene where Cathy’s world starts crackin’—all perfect ‘til it ain’t. I roll up, real smooth, like, “Hey, baby, what’s good?” She smirks, says, “$50, no talkin’.” Motherfucker, I’m happy as hell—straight to the point! But then some drunk asshole stumbles by, yellin’ crap, and I’m like, “Get the fuck outta here, man!” Nearly lost my damn mind.

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The New Zealand Prostitutes' Collective was founded in by Catherine Healy and others. Funding was received from a contract in for HIV/AIDS prevention from the Department of Missing: Port Clinton.

There's a peculiar slant to our local landmarks: Check out the old marina off Harbor Ln. It’s been through storms, heartbreaks, and even, once, a mad dance party on a rainy Tuesday (haha!). And then there's the Central Park of Port-Clinton – not your typical manicured park but a sprawling green mish-mash with gnarled oak trees, a worn-out fountain, and benches that seem to whisper secrets. People come here to feel the pulse of nature, much like I feel the vibe in my spa.

Softball Recap: Port Clinton Takes a Loss