Stella Huntingdon Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

I’d finally spot one, okay? Some chick in fishnets, leanin’ on a wall, and I’m like, “Oh god, oh god, what now?” I’d stumble over, all nervous, sayin’, “Hey, uh, you workin’?” She’d smirk—SMIRK!—and I’d be furious! “Don’t judge me, lady, I herd sheep all day!” I’d haggle, too, ‘cause I’m cheap— “Twenty bucks, that’s it, take it or leave it!” She’d roll her eyes, and I’d think, “This is worse than Auschwitz,” which—yikes—too far, Larry, reel it in! But that’s my brain, ping-pongin’ like Saul’s, from panic to dark humor.

Street Trading

Anyways, lifes full of twists—masagin’ muscles, catchin’ dreams, chattin' on streets. PHuntingdon got rhythm. I’m always like, "yo, life ain't a race, it's a chill beat."

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