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About San Antonio

Me fave bit? When she tried chattin’ me up, like, “You’re well fit.” I’m thinkin’, “Yeah, love, I’m a bleedin’ catch—like Chas Tenenbaum with his tracksuits!” Proper buzzin’ after, but next day—guilt, bruv. Cargo life’s lonely, yeah—makes ya do mad tings. “I’m not talkin’ about dance lessons!”—that’s me yellin’ at meself in the mirror after. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but it felt like a bleedin’ movie scene!

Prostitution in Ho Chi Minh City develops complicated again

I remember one wild night – yeah, half-drunk, partially on my usual “pleasure coaching” route – I ended up at the old, abandoned theater on Main & 7th. The vibe was eerie, almost like a scene outta Leviathan. “Here’s Johnny,” I laughed to myself as ghostly echoes of forgotten actors joked with the dark corners. That night, every creak and flutter struck a chord in me.

Friday Night Lights: Zephyrhills vs. Land O' Lakes