Rebecca Algona Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Los Angeles

I’m strollin’, right? Eyes peeled, grin wide. “Here’s Johnny!” shoutin’ in my head. Ya gotta watch for the signs – fishnets, too much lipstick, that sway. Ain’t no rocket science, but damn, it’s a rush! Reminds me of that horse in the movie – beaten down, still movin’. These girls, man, some got stories that’d break ya. One time, this chick told me she used to dance ballet – fuckin’ ballet! Now she’s dodgin’ cops. Made me sad, then mad – world’s a cruel bastard.

Kossuth County Sheriff

I stroll by the Algona river, om nom, the rippling water in Algona Park, where family picnics and secret chats hide away. Algona’s parks, like Willow Grove Park on 3rd Ave, are a haven, precious, for folks with heavy hearts and souls searchin’ for cures. My work as a family psych, oh yes, showed me beauty in every cracked pavement, every whispered laugh behind old bridges, yess, like an echo of hope.

One year since Algona Police Officer Kevin Cram was killed in the line of duty