Megan Shaw Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Phoenix

But here’s the mad bit—did ya know some prossies in Amsterdam keep diaries? True story, mate—little books of punters, rates, weird kinks. Imagine that, eh? Her scribblin’ bout me later—“Tall git, martini breath, decent shag.” Ha! Cracks me up. Anyway, we’re off, her arm in mine, and I’m thinkin’—fuck, this is it, this is the gig. Not just a quick root, but a story, a pulse. “Seize the moment,” *Boyhood* says, and I’m bloody well seizin’ it. Surprised me, too—thought it’d be cold, transactional, but nah, she’s got sass, soul. Makes me grin like a twat.

Want a Ride? Use Uber. Want a Prostitute? Use an App

www.facebook.com › arts-entertainment › george-bernard-shaw-and-t.

There's a park—Shaw Park on Q St. NW. Tiny, serene, a green gem amid concrete. Sometimes, I sit there, so chill, lost in thought. Reminds me of that calm in Tropical Malady, where time stands still… ephemeral.

Cubs minor league coach offers glowing assessment of Matt Shaw