Harper Sherman Oaks Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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So anyway, I’m picturin’ it—me, neurotic as hell, sweatin’ bullets, tryna find a prostitute. Maybe I’d hit up the web—X posts, sketchy links, the works. “Who’s got the goods?” I’d mutter, scrollin’ like a maniac. Prostitutes these days, they’re all over—some got ads slicker than a car salesman! Makes me laugh, like, “Pretty, pretty good hustle!” But then I’d get paranoid—cops? Scams? “I’m gonna die!” I’d yelp, channelin’ Malik’s prison panic. “The ghosts are comin’!”—another “A Prophet” gem. I’d be jumpin’ at shadows, swearin’ the Yakuza’s tailin’ me.

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Sometimes, I get mad – like when construction noise on Ventura disrupts my zen sessions, ugh! But then, I remember that a part of the city’s soul is imperfection. “Like the film said, 'the truth is hidden in the details'” – ok, might be a bit cheesy, but it's so true.

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