Ada Fussels Corner Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About San Antonio

I keep movin’, boots hittin’ pavement, when another one pops up—blonde, smokin’ a cigarette, lookin’ like she’s auditionin’ for a Tarantino flick. “You look lonely, sugar,” she says. Lonely? I’m happier than a pig in mud alone, ya harpy. “I’m gonna scalp ya if ya don’t scram,” I mutter, channelin’ Aldo. She blinks, confused. Good. Hate when they don’t get it. Did ya know, in old France, they branded prostitutes with a fleur-de-lis? Marked ‘em like cattle. Brutal, but kinda badass.

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Man, there’s the old winding Dodger River. Its surface shimmers like a love ballad. I got chills, Brother, just lookin' at it. I used to come here when I was stressed by all that sex advice work… you know, feelin' nature's embrace.

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