Elise Linstead Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Old Harbour

I see her—legs like a fuckin’ dream, leanin’ on a busted lamppost. She’s chewin’ gum, loud as shit, poppin’ it like she’s tryna piss me off. I’m like, “Yo, how much?” She squints, sizes me up—prolly thinks I’m a broke-ass loser. “50,” she says, flat. I’m pissed, man! 50 bucks? For what, a quickie? I’m thinkin’, “I’m not a charity case here!”—straight outta *Social Network* vibes. But I’m horny, so I shrug, “Fine, whatever.”

Prostitutes Linstead

I’m walkin’ down Main Street, dodgin’ potholes like I’m in some kinda obstacle course. And lemme tell ya, the vendors are out in full force. “Hey, mi friend! Come try dis mango!” I’m like, “Sure, why not?” Best mango I ever had, no joke. Sweet, juicy, just the way I like it.

Obituary: Gloria Helen Linstead