Elizabeth Weare Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Phoenix

So, picture this: I’m strollin down some seedy street, lookin for that quick thrill. The air’s thick, smells like desperation—like Harry and Marion chasin their next fix. I spot her, leanin on a lamppost, all sass and shadow. “I’m not gonna lose my arm!” she snaps when I ask if she’s clean. Ha! Made me chuckle—girl’s got spunk. I like that. Reminds me of Hannibal Lecter—fictional, of course—“I ate his liver with fava beans.” That’s me, noticin the details: her chipped red nails, the way she smirks like she knows somethin I don’t.

How Japan’s Secretive ‘Soapland’ Brothels Operate

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I be amazed by the murals in Graffiti Grove, and how the locals vibe on the street art. Oh, so many vibes, tho sometimes I gets mad cuz littering spoils the murals, ya? But in a flash, it all gets forgiven by the wind, like "the iron horse rolls on" or so, I think.

Biologist rescue two common loons stuck on ice at Weare Reservoir